Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 8)
LoL! Succeed or fail this’ll be… interesting, thank you for sharing.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 8)
LoL! Succeed or fail this’ll be… interesting, thank you for sharing.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 8)
Your sentences ramble on… A lot. Look at this:
“It’s okay, I forgive you.” Al says after thinking it over for a few minutes as she pulling me into a hug, which I gladly accept while we hang out talking the rest of the evening until Jaclyn came looking for us.
Do you think this flows well? It doesn’t. This should be broken up into several sentences, and it’s not the only offender. Something like this:
“It’s okay, I forgive you.” Al says, after thinking it over for a few minutes. She pulls into a hug, which I gladly accept. We hang out talking the rest of the evening, until Jaclyn comes looking for us.
Reads a lot better. There’s also a lot of missing punctuation. If you’re editing this, I’d look out for this kind of stuff.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 8)
Sorry for not commenting until now, but I have been following so I can leave my thoughts:
MORE PLEASE!
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 8)
“So… why are you doing all this?” I ask out of curiosity and since the silence was killing me. He shrugs his shoulders. “She read your journal to us. That was cruel, even on my level.”
“Oh. Is that all she said, was my journal?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Did she say what she did this morning?”
“No what?” Well everyone else knows, it’s not like he’s not going to find out.
“Well, she got all the girls around my bed, read my journal out loud, and then um…pulled the covers off.” I say as I turn a deep shade of red.
“I’m filling her bug repellent with sugar and water for that.” He seemed completely serious too, almost mad." So what’s up with the whole dream thing?" His turn to fill in the silence.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story.” I say, not really wanting to get into it.
“We’ve got like three hours to kill.”
“Alright.” So I told him. I told him about the nightmares, about seeing Allison dying and getting saved, and the questions that came with them.
“Whoa…that’s…. scary.” he said finally after a few moments of silence. “I’m really sorry about what Alyssa did to you. That must have been really….”
"Yeah. I had tried to get out of going the other day, but it didn’t work so well. " What I’m curious bout is why he is not repulsed by this little fact.
“Well we should go get our supplies now, everyone else is gone, even the kitchen staff.”
“Okay, so what do we need?”
“Umm…Sugar, starch, shaving cream, and glue.”
“I’ll go get Alyssa’s bug repellent can.”
“And I’ll get some shaving cream. Meet me back in five?”
“Okay.” I say as I run over to the cabin. After everything that’s gone on today, I can’t say it’s gone too badly. Sure I want to totally block it out of my memory, but not all of it’s been bad. When I enter, I find Al and Jaclyn sitting on their bed trying to suppress their giggles.
“Did you get them?” I ask.
“Yep.” Said Jaclyn pointing under Al’s mattress giggling.
“Sweet.” I say. “Al did you get one of her cans?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway we can get her bug repellent?” I ask. “It wouldn’t look good going through her stuff with all these people in here.”
“This place got a P.A. system?” asked Jaclyn as she sits up.
“Yeah, in one of those buildings. Why?” I ask.
“I have an idea. Come with me, we’ll need Florence Nightingale’s help.” She led me over to her workstation and knocked on her door.
“Oh hello.” Amanda said as she saw us standing there.
“We need a favor from you.” Jaclyn said as she scribbled something on a piece of paper from her pocket. “We need you to read this off on the intercom.”
“Why is there something wrong?” she asked as she read Jaclyn’s note.
“We need to get the other girls out of the cabin. We’re trying to play a little prank and we can’t, unless they leave.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Please, it’s to get Alyssa, you heard what she did to poor Katie this morning. We just need to get them out for like a second. After you make that announcement, you can say two minutes later that the meeting was cancelled. Please.” She looked uncertain for a moment and after a few minutes of pleading from Jaclyn, she finally gave in and headed over to the P.A. system.
“C’mon we don’t have much time.” Jaclyn said as she dragged me back to the cabin. We waited at the side in the dark until we hear Amanda’s voice over the intercom.
“Attention all tenth grade girls. A mandatory meeting is being held now in the cafeteria to discuss the conditions of the showers. I repeat all tenth grade girls mandatory meeting in the cafeteria.”
“Now we wait for them to leave.” She whispered to me. And sure enough 30 seconds later, all the girls came out mumbling about their time being wasted.
We waited 'till they were out of sight then snuck back in and searched through Alyssa’s bag for her can of Off.
“She’s got the entire mall compressed in a bag.” Said Jaclyn as she digs through all of the clothes and make up. “A hair dryer? A curling iron? And a hair straightener. What doesn’t she have in here?”
“Just hurry up and grab the bottle, Amanda’s going to announce the cancellation any minute and we still have to go over there.”
“Stop calling her that, it’s creepy.”
“What? That’s what she told me to call her.”
“Whatever. Here I got it; now lets get out of here befo- ohh look at that color!”
“No, leave it alone!” I say as I drag her away from Alyssa’s nail polish collection. Who brings nail polish to a lake?
I zip up the bag and step out just in time as the intercom goes off and announces that the meeting has been cancelled. We run back behind the building and wait for the pissed off girls to return.
“C’mon let’s go.” She said as she dragged me by the arm back over to Amanda’s station.
“How’d it go?” she asked when she saw us.
“Good. Thanks for all your help.”
“What did you do? Do I even want to know?”
“Phase one is complete, I’ll leave it at that.” She said, a hint of a grin escaping her lips.
“I’m not even going to ask.”
“So why are you not being all teachery on us?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, telling us off for what were doing. Being teachery.”
“Well for one, I have no idea what you two are up to. And two, I’m not a teacher am I?” she said as she winked at us. “Now I’m going to bed, lights go out in ten minutes. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, Katie.”
“Thanks.”
“Good night.” She said as she walked past us and out into the darkness.
“Well, let’s go do what we need to do to this and get back before Allison has a cow.” Jaclyn said and she started walking over to the kitchen.
I walk silently behind her and I start to wonder. Am I doing the right thing here? Will getting even with her really make me feel any better?
Part of me is saying of course it will, but there’s this other part… Maybe it’s not too late to back out.
“It’s locked!” Jaclyn said in disgust as she tried the door. Phew, if we can’t get the supplies, we can’t go through with it. “I bet that isn’t.” she said pointing up over the door to a small window barely able to squeeze someone through.
“How are we supposed to even get up there?” I ask as I stare at her in disbelief. “Oh no. You’re not standing on top of me!”
“Well how else am I going to get up there? I’m lighter then you, and probably the only one able to squeeze through there.” I know I sometimes let people walk on me, but I didn’t know it was so literal. I sigh and get down on my hands and knees.
“Ouch! Watch where you’re putting your feet.” I yell up at her as she steps up on my back.
“Oh, hold on.” She says as she tries to gain her balance and lifts her arms up to the window sill. “I can’t reach it, any way you can elevate yourself?”
“Umm… not really.” I moan as her feet sink into my back. She stands on her toes, as her weight is further pressed into me.
“Got it. It’s unlocked.”
“Great. Now hurry up and get off my back!” I yell up at her. She opens the window and lifts herself up with her arms. Relief!
I roll out from under her and watch as she ducks her head under and disappears inside. I hear a loud thump as she hits the ground. A light inside flickers on and the door unlatches. I get up slowly, trying to ignore the pain in my back, and let myself in. The sudden burst of light makes my eyes burn; I squint around and see Jaclyn dumping the contents of the bottle of Off! in the sink.
“Go look through the cupboards for the sugar will you?” She asks as she rinses out the canister.
“How’d you even know what we were going to do with this?” I ask.
“I have three brothers. We do this stuff all the time. Now go find the sugar.” I look through about a dozen doors until I finally find it.
“So what is this going to do exactly?” I ask as I hand it to her.
“When she sprays this stuff on, she’ll attract every bug and mosquito from a mile around.” She said as she shook up the can of water and sugar. “Trust me, I speak from experience.”
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” I ask. “Doesn’t this seem a little too extreme?”
“Are you crazy? Like what she did to you wasn’t? What else do we need?” Jaclyn asked as she browsed through the cupboards.
“Umm…starch.”
“Oh okay. Here it is.” She said as she grabbed it and threw it on the counter. “Anything else?”
“I think that’s it. The guys are getting the bugs, Allison’s in charge of the can and water, Jamie’s getting the shaving cream, and you got the bras.”
“Sweet. Now come on and let’s get out of here before someone sees the lights on.”
“Oh no! I forgot to meet Jamie; I was supposed to meet him after I got the can. He’s waiting for me outside the cafeteria.”
“We’ll stop by on the way back,” she said as she held the door open and motioning for me to grab the supplies and hurry up. I grab them off the counter, turn the lights off and follow Jaclyn outside.
“What took you so long?” Jamie asked as we arrived at the cafeteria.
“Sorry, we made a quick pit stop on the way.” I say as I hold up the bottle of starch and modified bug spray.
“Oh cool. You already got it. I got the shaving cream.” he said holding up the can. “And I found some random containers lying around our cabin we can use. Oh and there’s Anthony and Josh.” Jamie said pointing up at the outline of two figures making their way towards us. “You have the can of Pringles, right?”
“Argh, Allison has it.” Jaclyn said. “I’ll be right back; I’ll go get it from her.” We watch in silence as Jaclyn bounds toward the entrance of the girls cabin and reappear with Allison by her side.
“You got the can?” Jamie asks Allison motioning toward her arm.
“Yeah, but I couldn’t find an empty one, guess we got to eat um first.”
“Works for me!” Anthony says as he makes a grab for the can in Allison’s hand.
“Forget about the food, look! Bras!” Josh said as he points up at Jaclyn. I look over and notice Jaclyn carrying a handful of everyone’s bras in her arms. She rolls her eyes and lifts them over her head as Josh makes a lunge for them. What else is on guys minds besides food and girls underwear?
“Back off pervert. We need to freeze them.” Jaclyn says as she dumps them on my lap.
"Where are we going to hang them? " Allison asked as she stuffed a handful of chips in her mouth.
“There!” Jaclyn said as she pointed up to the tops of the dead oak tree branches. “Nice and open.”
“Toss me one of those containers.” I say to Jamie. I pour the starch in one and one by one dip the bras in it and hand them off to Jaclyn as she scales up the tree. I watch as she climbs to each branch and hangs them on individual branch. She jumped down and examined her work with pride. It looked like a giant, dead, bra decorated Christmas tree.
“There. That ought to leave a nice impression on them. Don’t you think?” she said as she wiped the tree sap on my sleeve. As weird as I felt about doing this, I couldn’t help but stand back and admire Jaclyn’s work. It’s just a prank I told myself. No ones getting hurt, it’s all for fun. Our fun anyway.
“We really need to take a picture of this.” I say, as I look up at all the bras dangling from the tree branches. It’s not everyday you would see something like this. It was quite amusing.
“What’s next?” Allison asked as she ate the last of the chips.
“Umm… the bugs.” Jamie said as he turned toward Anthony and Josh.
“We gotcha covered.” One of them said as they emptied their pockets to reveal a handfuls of larva.
“Ewe, you put those in your pockets?” Jaclyn asked in disgust. They just shrugged their shoulders and dumped them into the Pringles can. They then glued the paper seal back on and placed the white cap on.
“Anyone got a pen?” Josh asked as he pulled a sticky note out of his pocket.
“Jaclyn’s got one.” I say. She didn’t look too happy that I said that. She glares at me, before reluctantly handing it over to the hands that recently held maggots. We watch as he scribbles something on the sticky note, and then sticks it on the can.
“Go stick this in your cabin; she’s bound to open it in the morning.” He said to Allison.
“Wait one more thing. Here, stick her hand in this.” Jamie said as he poured a clear liquid into a bowl, which I could only assume was the warm water.
“I’ll do that!” I gladly volunteered.
Jaclyn shook her head. “Katie, Katie, poor naïve, Katie. Sorry.” She said as she rested her arm on my shoulder. “But, we all know what will happen if you do it. You can’t walk five feet without spilling something. By the time you get there, there won’t be any water left in the dish.” I look to see them all nodding in agreement, guilty expressions written across their faces.
“Fine. Al can do it.” I say glumly. I must say, Al couldn’t have done a better job then me, when she came back, half of it was down the front of her.
And I thought I was the only clumsy one around here.
“For some one who’s supposed to be all perfect and whatnot, she sure snores.”
“That’s who was snoring last night? It sounded like a small animal was being tortured,” said Jaclyn “Did she wake up at all when you put her hand in it?”
“No, that was the weird part. She just got this funny looking smile on.” said Al.
“Anything else?” I ask, trying to get a part in the plans, besides being a human footstool.
“Here.” Jamie said as he tossed me the can of shaving cream. “Just remember, be quiet.”
Me? Not quiet? Who do they think there talking to here? I didn’t get voted Most Likely to Forget How to Talk for nothing. Or was it Most Likely to Fall Down a Flight of Stairs? I can’t remember.Well anyway I sneak back over to our cabin, not making any noise.
Well okay, I might have made a little noise when I jammed my finger in the screen door, and possibly when I dropped the shaving cream can. But other than that, I was quiet as a mouse.
I glance around the room and try to figure out which bed Alyssa was sleeping in, which was pretty easy considering all I had to do was follow the snores.
Allison wasn’t kidding. If someone didn’t know people were sleeping here, I swear they’d call animal control. When I creep up to her bed, I couldn’t help but laugh a little at the sight of her with her hand in the water. I wish I had a camera. I get on the other side; shake the can up, and then Jaclyn walks in.
“What are you doing?” I hiss at her.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? It’s shaving cream not spray paint. Just squirt it.” She whispers at me.
“What are you doing though?”
"Making sure you don’t wake up everybody. You, plus a dark room, equals trouble."I ignore her. I mean I’m not THAT clumsy… I think. I only dropped the can once, and nobody even stirred. I press the squirt button as I watch the white foam squirt into Alyssa’s hair. I got to admit this made me smile. I moved it around and tried to make little designs, I almost made Mickey Mouse ears, but the can ran out. So she just has one ear, and a blob.
Jaclyn just shakes her head at whispers, “Weirdo” at me.
“Okay, let’s go.” I whisper.
“I’m tired, I’m going to bed. I’ll get you and Allison up before the show starts.” She whispers back.
“Okay. Good night.” I say as I grab the blankets off Al’s bed and mine. I got to admit, I was pretty tired too, but Allison beats us all.
At first, I thought I was seeing someone else, but when I came closer, I was shocked to see it really was her. We did the impossible. We wore out Miss A.D.H.D. I came back to find her leaning up against our bra tree asleep. I give her a shake and lead her back over to the nurse station. I tossed her one of the spare blankets, and even let her have the bed. I was going to ask her something, but it was too late, she was gone. At least she doesn’t snore.
I set up a spot for myself on the floor and lay down. As soon as I do, my mind shot off, probably even faster than Alyssa’s mouth when she sees what we did the next morning.
“So, that’s it right? You got my attention, and I believe in you now. No more nightmares, right? That was the point of the nightmares, right? For me to get saved. And now I am.” I whisper. I mean. There can’t possibly be any other reason for me to keep having them. God used them to get my attention, just like everyone said He did. There’s no purpose to keep having them. Right?
I close my eyes, confident that it would be over. Maybe I’ll finally get good, dry nights sleep.
It’s one of those beautiful days outside today. It’s crystal clear outside. The suns shinning down on me, there’s not a cloud in the sky. The grass is green all around me, in all directions.I look over to see a group of people over to my right. There are flowers everywhere. I wonder what’s going on.
It’s such a great day, so why is everybody…crying?
Curiosity is getting the best of me, so I walk over to see what’s going on. I finally figure it out. It’s a funeral. But for who is it for?
Wait, I recognize some of these people. Some of these kids are from my homeroom class. And I recognize him from detention! Who died? Was it someone from school?
My feet seemed to lead the way, regardless of what I wanted them to do. I look over in the front row and see…my mom? I walk over to her.
“What’s going on?” I ask her. She doesn’t look up, or answer. I ask again, but this time louder. Still there’s no response from her. She won’t look at me. She just kept this really vacant expression on her face. I begin to feel extremely annoyed. Why is she ignoring me? I look and see as she begins to cry. I feel the anger begin to drain away, and I begin to feel sorry for her.
“It’s okay, mom. Don’t cry.” I say. Still she gives me no response. I wave my hand in front of her face. She still doesn’t even look at me! Almost like she doesn’t even…see me. I shake the idea out of my head. She’s probably just mad at me for something. Maybe she found the pink sheets under my bed. They were kind of expensive sheets. But still…I walk on and look at all the crying people.
Then something strikes me. I see Alyssa’s clones sitting near the front; they look horrible. I’ve never seen them without Alyssa leading the way. Where is…Chills begin to run up and down my body again. Something’s telling me to look up, I really don’t want to. I don’t want to look up! I suck in my breath and do it anyway. The blood drains from my face as I look at the picture of the deceased. It’s Alyssa. I look back at all the sad, crying faces. I see my mom crying again. Jeez, I know she liked her, but c’mon. I had a strange feeling in my stomach that Alyssa wasn’t the reason she was crying so hard. I see her get up, and walk away.
I follow by her side. She still refuses to acknowledge my presence. It started to hurt, what did I do to her? This I could tell was far more serious then a couple of sheets. But what?
I follow her as she walks down through the cemetery; she silently cries the whole time.
“Mom! What’s wrong?” I ask. Still, she just continues to walk, like I never even said anything. I look on ahead a ways and see a young man with his head bowed, standing in front of a tombstone. Next to him stands an older man, also with his head bowed. She walks up to them and cries harder.
The young man begins to silently cry as well. It’s…Alex. Why is he here? Let alone out of his room. This is getting scary. Really scary. What’s going on? And the older guy is…my dad! “What’s going on?” I yell at them.
I want answers. They don’t look at me either. Like I never even spoke. I walk up to my dad, and place my hand on his shoulder. Well I was going to, that is, until my hand went right through him. I step back in shock. I try again, and once again my hand goes right through him. I try to touch my mom and Alex, only to have my hand go right through them as well. They seem to have felt nothing. At this point I was scared. More than scared, terrified!
They all remain quiet and stare silently at the tombstone. I can’t see whose name is on it, they’re blocking my view of it. Well…if it works for my hand, why not my whole body? I take a deep breath and walk through. An icy chill shoots through my body.
“It’s cold.” My mom said silently, almost a whisper as she tugs her jacket closer to herself. I turn my attention away from them and stare at what they were looking at. At first, it didn’t make sense. It looked like any other tombstone around here. I blink, slightly confused. No! That can’t be right! There has to be a mistake! But it was there, plain as day.I stand silently and read.
Katie Marie Devo
Daughter, Sister, and Friend.
Rest in Peace
1991-2007
What! I can’t be dead! I’m right here! I look up at them, hoping this has to be some sort of joke. But they weren’t there.
I watch as they silently walk away, leaving me there.I begin to feel a falling sensation, a sensation I’ve been becoming quite accustomed to.
“Go to the bathroom before bed” I hear.
I feel a pair of hands cling to my arms and shake. I jolt my eyes open. Jaclyn stands over me, shaking me awake.
“Ewe, you’re all sweaty.” She said in disgust as she wipes her hands on her pants.
“Huh? Oh sorry.” I moan.
“Well get up, we don’t want to be late for the screams.” She said as she steps over me to go wake up Allison. I don’t budge.“What are you waiting for? Get up!”
“Umm…I can’t.” I say as I feel my face go red. Allison sits up and she and Jaclyn exchange glances. The room is soon filled with giggles. I can’t help but laugh with them for a moment at my expense.
“Should we?” Jaclyn asks Allison. They begin to laugh again and come dramatically slow towards me.
“No!” I say pulling up the blankets my face turning a brighter shade of red. That doesn’t stop them and soon blankets are in their fists and they’re pulling it off. I laugh as I try to fight to keep the blanket down. They out do me and soon the blankets are off and we’re all cracking up.
It’s just us, this I can handle. I can at least laugh at myself.
“So? Who wants to get me some clothes?” I ask.
“Here. I already got them.” She said as she throws them at me. I get up and walk into the bathroom to change. I can hear them cracking up all over again at the wet blanket under me. I don’t mind though, as long as no one else sees it anyway.
I quickly get cleaned up and dressed. I find a trash bag and stuff my old clothes in it. What am I going to do with the blanket though? Steal it?
I come to a conclusion. I wet it down in the sink, wring it out, and stuff it under the mattress. At least that was the last night we’re here.
“C’mon lets go before they wake up.” Jaclyn said as she pushed us out the door.
We walk past our bra tree and laugh. They’re clearly frozen stiff, and no one noticed it yet. We sneak back into the cabin and laugh somewhat silently at the sight of Alyssa’s hair. We remove her hand from the water and dump it outside. If she really wet the bed, people won’t know it’s a prank, and neither will she. We lie back in bed and wait. One by one they wake up, and of course they don’t notice Alyssa at first.
They all come to me to see if I wet the bed again. I show them all the dry mattress under me, disappointed, they quickly loose interest.
Finally someone notices Alyssa.
“Alyssa! What did you do to your hair?” one girl asked.
“What are you talking about?” she grunts. She places her hands on her head and screams. She runs for a mirror and sees the shaving cream, which is completely hardened, leaving a thick, white shell on her head. The girls begin to crack up, harder than ever. “It’s not funny!” she screams.
One of the girls, after catching her breath, points down at her shorts. Me, Al, and Jaclyn crack up loudly along with everyone else. It actually worked!
She screams in horror and runs into the bathroom with her bag. We all laugh loudly for about ten minutes, until someone looks through their bag to change.
“Has anyone seen my bras?” one of the girls asks.
“Mine are missing too!” another shouts out. All the girls are soon digging through their bags. None are able to find them.
“Someone took our bras!”
“That’s not all I took.” Jaclyn whispered to us and winked. She lifted up Allison’s mattress and revealed at least ten pairs of underwear.
“Whose are those?” I ask starring from the underwear back to Jaclyn.
“Wait for it…” she said as she put a hand up to silence me. And right on cue came a scream of frustration coming from the bathroom.
“You took Alyssa’s underwear?” I ask trying not to laugh in front of the other girls, who were still looking for their missing bras.
“Every pair I could find.” Jaclyn said proudly." She doesn’t know the meaning of packing light."I look over at Allison, who had to hold a pillow over her mouth to keep from laughing, as she watched all the girls looking for their missing clothing.
Ten minutes later, when Alyssa finally came out of the bathroom, looking slightly uncomfortable. Her hair, still completely shelled in. Giggles erupting from the room. They, at least, saw the irony of what happened.
“Who took all my underwear and bras?” she screamed.
Another girl called out, “All of our bras our missing.”
“Ugh.” Alyssa moaned quietly, trying to hide her red face as she threw her bedding under her mattress, and threw herself onto the bed. “I hate these stupid mosquitoes!” she moaned as she grabbed her bug spray and sprayed it all over herself. Allison started laughing out loud and me and Jaclyn elbowed her in the ribs at the same time.
“What are you laughing at?” she sneered.
A girl asked a couple beds away, “What’s that noise? There’s a weird humming sound coming from somewhere.”
“Yeah, I hear it too.” Another girl said. I heard it as well, and judging by the looks on Al’s and Jaclyn’s faces, so did they.
“That’s not from us is it?” I ask them. Jaclyn shakes her head.
“I don’t think so.” Said Al as she looked around the room for the source.
“If I ever catch who did this, I’m going to kill them!” Alyssa yelled as she reached for the can of Pringles in the front. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I could have sworn it was vibrating. We saw her read the note Josh stuck to it which read: Compliments from the staff.
She tore the note off and pulled of the first seal. Okay, I swear the noise is coming from the can. I look over at Al and Jaclyn they see it too. Uh-oh.
She tore the re-sealed seal off and about a hundred flies shot out through the top and out into the cabin.
Alyssa screamed and dropped it. The rest of the girls began screaming and running out, and we gladly joined them.
We look over and see Alyssa gagging and spitting flies out of her mouth. She looks pissed.
We look inside the window and see the room, which is now completely filled with flies, giving off an extremely loud buzzing noise. Some other girls joined us and watched, puzzled expressions filled their faces. Others wanted as far away as possible, others still screaming and dancing around, making sure there was nothing on them. We all exchange looks with each other.
That wasn’t supposed to happen, but I got to say, it gave things an interesting twist. The three of us laugh nervously among ourselves.We hear some more shouts, and realize people have noticed our little bra tree. Every guy here was standing under, gazing with amazement. All except Jamie, he was standing a little behind staring with amusement as all the girls came over, dumbstruck at the sight of all their bras, completely frozen, hanging from the branches from the clips.
“Oh…my…God…” we heard some of the girls call out.
We couldn’t keep it in any more; the three of us completely lost it. We stood there, barely, laughing as hard as we could. Every little thing was causing us to laugh harder. Mr. Lenord, running out in his bathrobe to see what all the commotion was, for instance. He came out and asked us what was going on, but we couldn’t give him a straight answer, we couldn’t stop laughing.
I managed to calm down long enough to point up to the tree, but seeing his expression when he followed my gaze, only made it all start over again.
“Oh, by the way, don’t go in the girls’ cabin!” Jaclyn called out as he walked toward the tree. He spun around to ask why, but saw he wasn’t going to get anything else out of us.You know what he does? Yep! You guessed it! Went straight for the girls’ cabin.We all ran as far away as we could , but close enough to get a good view. When he opened the screen, hundreds of flies shot out, straight into him.
Okay, maybe not hundreds, but Josh and Anthony filled that can to the brim with maggots, and there were sure more flies then I have ever seen in my life.
After they flew past Mr. Lenord, who was screaming and dancing around, they headed straight for sugar coated Alyssa.
At this point, I don’t think any of us could breath at this point, when we tried to laugh, which was becoming extremely painful, all that came out were quiet gasps for air.We watched painfully as Alyssa ran around screaming her head off as a swarm of flies chased her around.
We weren’t the only ones cracking up; everyone started laughing, all except Alyssa, and Mr. Lenord, who was still spitting flies out of his mouth and nose.
“Where did the flies come from?” Jamie asked as he walked over to us, watching all the chaos.
“Remember those maggots Josh and Anthony filled the Pringles can with. They turned to flies overnight, and when Alyssa opened it, they all flew out into our cabin.”
“Wow. That worked out even better then planned.” He said sounding impressed. We stood for a moment and watched, half the guys watching the flies, and the other half admiring our bra tree. More staff came running out, wondering what was going on. When they saw our tree, a few frowned, a few smiled and some actually started laughing.
“Well, I wonder who could have done this…” a voice said behind us.
I spun around to see Amanda standing next to us admiring our piece of art. She looked at me and gave me a wink. “So that’s what you were doing when you had me make that announcement.” I gave her a look of pure innocence and she just laughed. “Don’t even try to act all innocent, I’ve read your school record.” she said clearing her throat. “Twenty-seven detentions and it’s only February third.”
“Hey, it wasn’t my idea; it was all Allison’s. Besides, that last one doesn’t really count as a full one. More like twenty-six and a half. And most of them were chained; I’ve only done five or six things. They like to give them to me weeks at a time.” She raised her eyebrows at this, clearly surprised at this bit of information. About the part with Al doing this, not the detention part.
“We all had a small part in it though. We had little jobs.” I said, somewhat proudly. She swats at a couple flies buzzing around us.
“There are too many flies around here.” She said as she continued brushing her hand in the air. The four of us exchange glances and quietly giggle.
A couple minutes later, out comes a ladder and Mr. Stinky begins to climb it and take them down. Darn.
But our fun wasn’t over yet; Mr. Stinky wasn’t exactly being as smart as he looks, he was just plucking them off and dropping them on the ground at first.
Some of them actually broke. Their owners weren’t exactly thrilled when they were returned to them in a couple pieces.
We, on the other hand, thought it was hilarious.
“I’ll be right back.” I say to them as I walk over to Amanda, who was standing beneath our bra tree gazing up at one of the teachers as he continued to pull them down.She grins at me as I stand beside her.
“So… did you work things out with Allison?” she asks me, her eyes twinkling beneath her black rimmed glasses. Her long blond hair blowing into her face as she turns her head towards me.
“Yeah. We did.” I say trying to avoid the awkwardness of eye contact.
“And?” she asked. I look up at her and smile. She must have gotten the message, because she pulled me into one of her big hugs. I don’t mind though. I like them. There’re so warm and comforting. I feel like I could just stay there forever.
“I’m still having nightmares though.” I say pulling myself away. “This one was different though.”
“Oh. How so?”
“I was at Alyssa’s funeral, except no one could see me. My mom was there and she was crying. She got up and I followed her as she walked around the cemetery over to my dad and brother. They were staring at a tombstone. I tried to comfort them, but my hand went right through them. I then looked at what they were looking at. It was a grave… for me.”
She doesn’t say anything for a moment; she just stands there and thinks. I lean up against the tree and wait for her to say something.
“What do you think that means?” she asks me as she stares at me. No she doesn’t stare at me, she stares into me. Her and Al, they seem to be the only people I know who could give me that feeling. It’s really creepy.
“I don’t know, is it supposed to have a meaning?” I ask, knowing what the answer is going to be.
“Yes. Try to think; were people sad at Alyssa’s funeral?”
“Well yeah, the people who liked her.”
“See and your family were sad when you were gone.”
“So… the point of it was to show me that people would be sad if I and Alyssa died?”
“Exactly.”
“So what do I do?”
"I don’t know. Pray about it."Pray about it. That’s all she told me before she walked away and left.
Why can’t people be a little more specific? That would be a little helpful. But no, all I get is a pray about it. So thanks, thanks a whole lot.
I tear my eyes away from our masterpiece and figure I better pack before my mom comes to pick me and Al up. Which is only in an hour by the way.
Okay I need to figure out how to hide the evidence, my mom would freak if she saw this. She’s not exactly oblivious like Jaclyn is, once she opened those bags she’d know. Maybe I can just throw them in the lake. No, then they’d smell like fish, but at least that would be a little better. And if my mom asked, I could say it was some prank, just like the bra tree. Someone threw my clothes in the lake.
No, that wouldn’t work. Then my mom would wonder why all my bras aren’t up there with the rest.
This is harder than I thought. I guess I’ll just have to wash and wring them in the sink or something. I definitely can’t leave them as is. That would be a cheery conversation when my mom found them.
I walk in to find Al already packed and ready to go. Sometimes I wish I could be as organized as she is…sometimes.
I look over near my bed and see most of my clothes strewn about all over the place, just how I left them. I sigh and run around trying to collect everything in my arms, and then dump them in my bag. Funny how everything fits perfectly when you go somewhere, then when you leave, it takes an hour to fit everything back in AND get it to zip back up.Yes, this was one of those moments.
“Need some help?” Al asks as she watches me ready to pounce on it.
“Yeah, thanks. Any ideas about what I can do with…that.” I say nodding toward the trash bag on the floor.
“Umm…sink? And pray it dries in the next…2 minutes.” She says looking at her duck watch.
“Looks like I don’t really have a choice.” I say as I pick up the bag and head over to the bathroom. I grab a wash cloth and scrub it down best I could with their foam soap stuff. It took like ten minutes until I was somewhat satisfied.
Okay…so maybe five minutes of it was playing with the soap… but c’mon, it was that fun foam stuff. Who doesn’t want to play in it?"
When we went back outside with our stuff, waving away the occasional fly, my mom was standing outside admiring our work.
“What in the world happened here?” she asks, pointing up as they continued to get the last few bras off the tree branches.
“You should have seen it before, there were at least 40 bras up here!” one guy called back down at my mom as he inched his way to the upper branches.
“Nice, huh?” Jaclyn said standing besides us, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hold on.” I say as I run around to the other side to where Mr. Stinkly stood talking to another teacher. I stand impatiently and wait until he’s done until I corner him by himself.
“Uhh…Hi. I have a weird request of you.” I say when he finally notices me there. He kind of rolls his eyes, telling me to get on with it. I swallow the lump in my throat and ask, “Do you have a tattoo?”
He cocks his head and raises an eye brow, staring at me strangely. “Why would you think I have a tattoo?” he asks, after he finishes gawking at me. Please man, close your mouth.
“Umm…long story, can you just show me your arm?” I ask, stunned at myself for actually letting this bother me enough to ask, while holding my breath.
"Katie, I have to-"he begins, but I cut him off before he has a chance to escape, or open his mouth again.
“Please,” I beg, “Just do it.” He sighs and rolls up his sleeve. “No, the other one.” I say, pointing to his left arm.
“If you insist.” He mumbles and rolls up his other sleeve to show me his tattoo less arm, which was pretty white for someone so tan. “See, no tattoo.” He says as he quickly rolls his sleeves back down.I breathe a sigh of relief, as I quickly thank him and run off, leaving him standing there shaking his head at me in confusion. Oh well, at least I now know it’s not him, If it’s anybody.
My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 9)
I’m liking where this is going.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 9)
Revenge may have been granted, but it seems that troubles are far from over; that’s just my thinking. MORE PLEASE!
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 9)
When I came back, no one really paid any attention to my absence, everyone was still too preoccupied staring admiringly (and some not so admiringly) up at out work. I was tempted to tell my mom we did it, but I don’t think she’d believe us even if we told her. I don’t know if she thinks we’re capable of something like this. Except for Jaclyn anyway. My mom’s caught her doing some crazy stuff at our house.
Poor Alex will never fall asleep on the couch again. At least unless he wants another makeover. Although I do think he looked kind of nice with a little eyeliner and lipstick. How he slept through all that, and the laughter coming from us as we watched, I shall never know.
“Did you get yours down?” my mom asked me as we pilled into the car.
“Huh?” I ask, snapping out of my trance.
“Your bras, did you get them down?” she asked again. “There’re expensive. Did you make sure you have all of them?”
“Oh, they didn’t hang ours up.” I say as I glance out the window at Alyssa, who still had the occasional fly buzzing around her.
“Your biology teacher said all the girls had theirs strung up.”
“Nope, not us.” I say again.
“You and Allison didn’t get involved?” she asked doubtfully.
“Or Jaclyn. We were involved, but our clothes didn’t get stuck up there.” I say as I try to control my giggles. I was doing a better job than Al though.
“What’s so funny back there?” she asked, looking at us through her rear view mirror.
“Nothing.” I say.
“Then why is Allison laughing?”
“Oh c’mon. You should know Allison by now. If you say the word ‘pudding’ she’ll start laughing.” Which, wasn’t actually lying. We sat there and watched as my moms eyes grew big and her mouth dropped open.
“You three did… that?!” she says in disbelief, her hand outstretched toward the tree. Al and I just sit there and smile innocently back at her. We could tell there was a battle going on in her head. She didn’t know whether to yell at us or laugh.“But, you couldn’t have done that, could you?” she repeats.
“We had our part.” I say, giving in to the desire of admitting our part in the crime. We watch as it begins to sink in and she laughs.
Phew.
“I take it this was Jaclyn’s idea.” She says.
“Nope.” I say as me and Al begins to laugh quietly in the back seat.
“It wasn’t YOU was it?” she says instantly regretting she asked.
“No, don’t worry. You’ll never guess who.” I say as I watch Al turn a deep reddish color.
“I can’t think of anyone else. Was it that boy you’re always hanging around with?”
“Umm…no, although he helped.” I say, sort of feeling angry at hearing Jamie referred to as “that boy”. She knows his name.
“There’s no one else I can think of.” She says not even bothering asking if Al did it.
“C’mon, she’s sitting here with us in the car.” I say as Al turns a deeper shade of red. My mom’s probably thinking at this point if she accidentally picked up an extra passenger.
“Allison! You thought of this?” she asked not believing it could be true.
“Yep!” Allison says proudly through her completely red face. My mom just shakes her head and mutters about me and Jaclyn rubbing off on her, which only causes me and Al to laugh harder. When we settle down my mom starts talking about how she never likes going down to the lake on account of all the bugs.
“I mean, didn’t you see all the flies buzzing around?” she asks us, which only cracks me and Allison up harder. “Well I’m glad you two seemed to work things out between you. I was afraid you two were fighting when I dropped you guys off. You two were awfully quiet.” The two of us exchange glances, and I give her the keep-your-mouth-shut-or-you’re-dead-look. I totally forgot about that, that was the morning Allison discovered (to my horror, and her amusement…eventually) my little problem. What’s worse is now the nightmares are equally becoming as horrifying as the side affects. I still don’t understand what’s going on. I now believe without a doubt this isn’t normal, I mean, who has continuation dreams that last 3 weeks long? Not too many people I know. And what was the whole deal with Amanda seeing what I’ve been dreaming? That was really creepy. And of course, the most important question of the day, WHY AM I WETTING THE BED?!?!?!?
The first thing I do when we get home is run straight for the shower. Sure, there were showers there and all. But they also didn’t have any doors. I don’t care how gross I feel, there is NO WAY I’m showering in front of ANYBODY! Besides, there’s no hot water there.
Like always, my mind begins to spin as soon as I turn on the water. Maybe I’m having nightmares because I’m stressed? Failing math is kind of stressful. Or maybe I’m not stressed at all. Maybe I’m too bored, and this is my body’s way of letting me know I need more excitement in my life. No, I’d think last night would have been enough excitement to last me a while. Or a week anyway.
I take a deep breath as I try to focus on something else. I try to concentrate purely on the feel of the warm water hitting my body, and how good it feels, blocking out everything else. I look up and watch as all the steam escapes the shower and wanders into the rest of the bathroom, fogging up the mirror.
“Go to the bathroom before bed.” flashes through my mind, as clearly as if it was spoken. The same unrecognizable voice. The voice, being neither male nor female. Just a plain flat voice.
I try to shake it out of my head and turn around so the water crashes onto my face. I picture it washing away my thoughts, washing away what’s been going on in my head. I take some more deep breaths. I hear banging on the bathroom door.
“Hurry up! You’re going to use all the hot water!” Al yells at me through the door.
I don’t want to get out though. I don’t want to go out face the world. I just want to stay in here, letting the water drown all of my troubles. And not having to deal with anything, just stay in here by myself. But Al was right, I could feel the water getting colder, I was taking up all the hot water. I take a last deep breath and turn off all the knobs. Then feel around outside the curtain for a towel until my hand touches something fluffy. I throw it over my head, focusing on its softness on my face. Focusing on anything besides what’s happening. I repeatedly drag it up and down over my hair, attempting to dry it, wondering how badly it’s going to tangle because of this.
I have a hair dryer, but I don’t ever use it. I don’t even own a hair straightener, curler or anything like that. I just towel dry it and let it be, until my mom gets on my case about brushing it, only to get her to stop bugging me. I mean yeah, I brush it in the morning and whatnot, my hair sticks out everywhere in the morning. But I don’t rush to the bathroom after every class to fix those couple stray strands of hair that are out of place. I really couldn’t care less about them. Hair isn’t my thing. Or really anything girly. I don’t wear make-up, or carry a purse; I mean c’mon that’s why we have backpacks. Who needs a purse? It’s just another annoying thing to carry around all day.
Jaclyn thinks I’m weird because of that, but that’s coming from someone who carries a new one once a week. She has like fifty of them in her closet, all in perfect condition. When I ask her why she has so many, she just shrugs her shoulders and says that she found something better. All I can say, it’s a good thing she isn’t into brand names. I love Jaclyn though, she can be sarcastic sometimes, err…okay most of the time. But she’s still a good friend. Sometimes it seems like we could never be more different, but we always seem to be laughing at the same thing. She knows how to get me to laugh about my insecurities, but she knows where not to go. She, thankfully, knows when to stop. She may seem shallow at times, but I know somewhere, deep, deeeep down inside, there’s a part of her that has emotions besides sarcasm, if that’s even an emotion. I know she has them, but she just hides them.
Jaclyn just says it’s because she lives with four guys. Three brothers and her dad (her mom died when she was little) so emotions aren’t really a thing in her house. Or as she sometimes puts it, a Hallmark store. But the rest of us just call it a heart. She has this weird thing about referring emotions with Hallmark. She says it’s because she went in ther once to get a birthday card, and she found everything under the sun for every possible emotion. Everything except a birthday card, they ran out.
Then there’s Allison, we just call her Al for short. We’re too lazy to say the extra two syllables. Jaclyn sometimes refers to her as the Hallmark manager. It’s just because Al seems to be the only one actually capable of controlling them. She’s not afraid to get all mushy and sentimental on us, but I like her that way. I’m sure Jaclyn does too, she just pretends not to.
Allison lives with her mom; she’s an only child, so it’s just her and her mom. She says she never met her dad; he apparently walked out just after Al was born. I feel bad for her, but she says she doesn’t mind too much. She likes it just being her and her mom. If you look at her and how she acts, you’d never know she was an only child. Most people I know who are an only child are usually snotty and selfish. But that’s like the opposite of Allison.
She’s always thinking of other people, ignoring her own feelings to help others. It’s one of the things I love about her.
She also has this weird thing, she’s more in touch with my emotions then I am. She can put her finger on it; explain exactly how I’m feeling when I can’t make heads or tails about it. It’s a wonder why she doesn’t take psychology classes.
I get dressed and make a feeble attempt to comb out my hair. The comb painfully stopping from a knot positioned on the back of my head. After a few painful moments of this I give up and just wait until my mom jumps on me about it.
I hear Allison’s cell phone ring a couple times
“Hello?” I hear on the other side of the door. “Hello?” Allison says again. “Who is this?” I hear her snap her phone shut and then moan in frustration.
What was that about?
I open the door and let all the steam escape, a blast of cold air meeting my face.
“Who was that?” I ask as I throw my wet tell in the corner of the bathroom. She shrugs her shoulders and says, “Wrong number I guess.” I see her fidget uncomfortably, and tap her fingers on the desk in the corner that she stood next to.
“What?” I ask noticing she begins to move.
“What?” she asks me, realizing what she was doing.
“You’re fidgeting, you never fidget, what’s up?”
“Oh sorry. It’s nothing.” She says as she fails to meet my eyes. I know instantly that she’s lying, but I don’t pursue it. If she wants to tell me, she’ll tell me. Okay, I want to know.
“No it wasn’t.” I say, pursuing the matter.
“Yes, it was.” She says glaring at me. Whoa…settle down.
She slumps into my computer chair and browses on-line as we discuss the events of this morning and last night.
“I got to say, I love her nickname, Lord of the Flies seems to suit her so well.” I say as I lay back on my bed, that of which Allison will not go near.
“Yeah, did you see her face when all the flies shot out of that can?” She said as she browsed through her friends Myspace profiles.
“I wasn’t expecting that either. I can’t believe that worked out so perfectly. It really was a good trip. Minus the whole it-was-the-most-embarrassing-thing-I-ever-had-to-endure part. I could have done without that.” I say as I grab a magazine off my nightstand and start flipping through it, looking for something the least bit remotely interesting to me. I don’t even know why I get these. I’m neither interested in fashion nor make up, and that just about covers everything in these things. I think my mom has hopes that if I read these, there’s the slightest possibility I’ll learn something a teenage girl my age is supposed to know, or care about. Being that I don’t care about what I should be getting my non-existent boyfriend for Valentines Day, or how some celebrity got dumped. I find them of no value to me.
I toss it aside and get up to see what Allison’s laughing at over on the computer. I look over to see pictures on Jamie’s Myspace from our little adventure, taken from a camera phone. She browses around the pages as I soon realize Jamie’s page isn’t the only one with pictures of our night.
There’s a nice shot of our bra tree, one of Alyssa gagging after running out of the cabin, and a really good one of our Biology teacher getting pelted by flies as he opened the girls cabin door. There’s apparently a bunch more pictures, some good, some making me want to kill the photographer. Like for instance me, getting the blankets pulled off. But I’m not the only one though, there’s also one Alyssa after she jumped out of bed without realizing her morning surprise, and she also has a head full of shaving cream. I printed that one.
“What was your nightmare?” Al asks me after we log off and crash out on the floor.
“Huh?” I ask sitting up to look at her.
“You had a nightmare last night. What was it about?” she asks looking up at the ceiling.
“Oh,” I say thinking back to what happened at the cemetery.
I tell her about Alyssa’s funeral, and how my mom was there and how I followed her to my tombstone. Allison doesn’t say anything at first, she just lays there and watches the dusty, black ceiling fan spin around a few times, spewing invisible dust in the air. She always seems to be so lost in thought whenever I tell her about it. I can tell by the expression on her face that she really wants to figure this out. I do too, I really do. It’s just confusing. It’s almost more confusing then Algebra…almost. Now that’s something I will NEVER understand. Maybe one day I’ll understand the meaning of these nightmares, but Algebra will never have a purpose in my life.
I suddenly get a thought that has never occurred to me before. Could these be premonitions? A warning about what’s to come? Is that actually possible?
My mind begins the swarm with a whole new view of the situation. Is Allison really in danger?Are people’s lives really at stake here? My mind jumps from one horrifying thought to another.Has God entrusted me with the lives of two teenage girls and my own? If so…we’re doomed.
“Want to get something to eat?” I ask, trying to distract my mind from frightening myself any further. Al snaps out of her trance and looks up.
“Sure.” She says as she hops up off the floor, gladly welcoming a distraction herself. We walk downstairs and I freeze. My heart pounding as I see what has been placed onto the table.“What’s wrong?” Al asks me and I stop abruptly in front of her.
“Waffles.” I mutter under my breath to her.
“Oh, yay, I love waffles. What’s wrong, do you not like them?” she asks slightly bewildered by my facial expression as she looks back from them to me, trying to find a missing piece somewhere. It’s not that I don’t like waffles, I love waffles. But that’s the problem. My mom only makes waffles when she has something bad she needs to tell me. Last time she made these, Alex ran over my cat with his car. He swears it was an accident; that quote unquote “the stupid thing was sleeping behind his tire.”
“Oh good, you’re here.” She says to me as she places another plate on the table. I eye her suspiciously, trying to figure out what’s happened. She notices this and smiles innocently back at me.“I made breakfast,” she says.
“Yes…I can see that.” I say, not moving my eyes off her.
“Oh, just sit down.” She says to me. I look over to see Allison’s already done just that. I sigh and do as she says, keeping my guard up. I know as soon as I finish the last bite, out spills the bad news. I eat as slow as I can, chewing slowly and pausing longer between bites. After I can’t possibly drag it out any longer, and all the plates have been cleared my mother clears her throat. I prepare myself, willing myself for whatever she throws at me.
“So, Katie.” She begins, trying (poorly I might add) to sound casual. “While you were gone-”
I cross my fingers under the table and chant inside my head you didn’t look under my bed; you didn’t look under my bed. Please, please don’t tell me you looked under my bed.
“I met with Mr.Brockson, your math teacher. We’ve set up a plan to help with your math scores.” I take a deep breath as the nervous jitteriness slowly works its way out of my body and the color returns to my face. That was close.“You’re going to be attending after school tutoring sessions with him.” She continues. Oh great, like that’s any better. “Until your math grade improves.” She finishes, waiting for me to respond. I quietly moan to myself. Leave it to my mom to do something like this. Terrific.
“So, when does this…experience start?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“Wednesday. He has to leave directly after school ends tomorrow.” She says somewhat startled that I’m not putting up a fight. And usually I would, I would fight it with every being of my body, but I haven’t really been in a fighting mood. I guess I’m a little stressed from all that’s been going on lately.
My mom, who’s quite curious why I’m not fighting the matter, asks me what’s wrong. I just shake my head. But before I can stop her Allison blurts it out.
“She’s been having nightmares.” she says to my mom. I shoot her the evil eye from between my arms.
“Oh?” she asks quite interested in this little piece of information. “Is this true?” I shrug my shoulders. “Why didn’t say anything before?” she asks.
I shrug my shoulders again and respond with a, “It’s no big deal.” She looks at me for a moment, then forgets about it and carries on with whatever she was doing before.
Me and Al head back up to my room, where I’m soon given the third degree.
“Why didn’t you tell your mom about this?” she asks.
“Because I didn’t, and don’t, want to.” I say crashing onto my bed.
“Why not?” she asks.
“Why would I? The less she knows, the better.” I say, pointlessly picking up another magazine. I look over to see here staring hard at me. I sigh and sit up. “Look.” I say “It’s just something I don’t really want to involve my mom with. She wouldn’t really understand.”
“Why, she seemed concerned enough.”
“She’s just going to give me another one of her tiring speeches about hormones.” I love my mom, I really do, but hormones aren’t the cause of every problem. I could come home with a broken foot, and she’d seriously find some way to bring hormones in with the conversation. That’s my mom for you.
A familiar tune fills the air and I turn to find the source, which seems to be coming from Al’s pocket. Allison quickly snatches up her cell phone and answers it, almost like she was expecting someone to call. I watch as the color slowly drains from her face. Who is she talking to?
“Who is this?” she demands. “Hello?” She snaps the phone closed in frustration and thrusts it back into her pocket. She waves her hands over her face and through her hair, as she falls down on my bed. Okay, I know something’s up, especially if she’s too distracted to be willing to come near my bed, let alone LAY on it.
“What’s wrong?” I ask hanging my head over her. She looks at me through her fingers and mutters something under her breath. “Huh?” I ask, unable to understand a word she just said.
“Nothing.” She says. “Wrong number.”
I want to scream “Liar!” but I don’t. Instead I just furrow my eyebrows at her, wishing she’d tell me what’s going on. But she doesn’t. She just looks the other way, then gets up and heads over to the computer. I can only shake my head and wonder what that was all about. The rest of the day goes on normal enough, no more mysterious phone calls anyway.
It’s soon almost 11 PM and my mom comes in and tells us to go to bed, that just because Al is over doesn’t change the fact that it’s still a school night. Then she teases me and tells me to have “sweet dreams” I roll my eyes and climb into bed after throwing some more towels over the mattress and under the sheets. I might as well just sleep on them now, it’s becoming too persistent not to. And I don’t think my mom will appreciate me turning another couple sets of sheets a different color.
“Night.” I mutter to Al.
“Night, keep it dry up there.” She says giggling.
“Ha Ha.” I say pulling the covers up over my head. I turn on my back and face the ceiling. “Why am I having these nightmares?” I whisper as I roll back over to my side. I begin to feel drowsy; I close my eyes and wait for it to end.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 10)
I look around; there are a couple beat up old cars to my right. Old worn out asphalt coats what appears to be a small parking lot. In front of me I see a few doors. About six of them, I look above them to see a second story which contains six more doors, identical to the ones below it. All painted a bland brown color; the color reminds me of dried blood. Something is urging me onward; I look to my left to see a giant Motel 6 sign.
My guts’ urging me to walk up to the doors, so I do. I walk slowly down the corridor of the first set of doors. But something tells me it’s not what I’m looking for, if I’m even looking for something. I feel a strange sensation in my stomach, like nervous butterflies fluttering around, pressing me to go up the stairs. The feeling growing stronger as I walk up each step, my breath coming in short and raspy. My hands begin to feel clammy as I get closer to the top. But I’m not scared, more like a nervous excitement. I feel like I’m getting a big break; a breakthrough, a possible clue.
The feeling growing stronger with each step, I walk past the first door, but something tells me it’s not it. I continue down to the next, but once again my gut tells me to keep going. I continue down to the third, the feeling intensifying by three. I continue, slowly pacing down, but the farther away from the third door I get, the looser the knot in my stomach becomes. I turn around and go back to the third door.
I look up at the motel’s doors number, the number 27 staring down back at me. I feel a sudden urge to knock. My hand forms a fist and lightly taps on the door.
Nothing. I rap harder. Still nothing. I begin to bang on the door with my fist, the door opens, but no one appears to be there.
I look in, but it’s completely dark and smells like its occupant hasn’t bathed or changed clothes in…weeks. My feet propel me inside, the knot in my stomach growing tighter with every step I take. I inch my way forward inside.
I walk into the center of the room, and the door slams closed with a bang. Drowning the room in complete darkness, I swirl around, trying to see who closed the door. But it’s useless; I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.
I try to attempt to control the sound of my breathing, waiting until even deep breaths escape my mouth before pressing onward. I inch further into the room, feeling around for a light switch. My hand feels a dimmer; I turn it up, but not all the way, filling the room with an eerie orange glow. I look behind me to see who closed the door, but there’s no one behind me. I look forward where I see a news bulletin board. I walk up to it, my heart pounding as I get closer. I look at the articles pinned onto it. The first reads: Fast growing Bible Community at Camarillo High I stare at it, and notice a picture of Allison next to it, revealing the fact that she’s the president. Weird.
Why would someone have that pinned up? I look toward the next article, another one about Allison. What’s going on? I stand back and look over all of them…all of them about Allison.I step back in shock, what’s happening? Whose are these? Why are all of these about Allison? I stumble back into a door, it opens and I fall into the room. I look around and notice it’s a dark room. There are pans sitting on a table with some kinds of liquid in them. I look at a close line stretching across the length of the room. Close pins every few inches apart from each other, each holding up a developed picture. I walk towards them. The first one is of Allison.
She’s standing by her locker, pulling a book out. Chills run down my back and I rip my eyes away and stare at the second one. Again it’s of Allison. This time she’s sitting at a picnic bench reading a book. I look at them all at once…there all of her, doing random stuff, at school, and walking home. There are a couple of all of us hanging out, but other than that, it’s just her. There must have been at least 30 photos.
A small whimper escapes my mouth. What’s happening?! I turn around to run out, but am stopped by a man, the man from my dreams. He smiles, the same smile before he kills. He comes up to me and leans in, and whispers into my ear, “You should have minded your own business.”
I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping to gain someone’s attention to this room. I feel a sharp pain in my stomach, and look down to see a knife thrust into it. I try to scream some more, but that all that comes out is inaudible whimpers and gasps for air. I try again and succeed. All I end up doing is waking me up from my own screams.
“Go to the bathroom before bed!” says the same voice I’ve heard every night for the past two weeks. The voice I’ve grown to hate.
Al is standing over me, and so is my mom. Both nervously looking at me, not sure what to do.
My breath is coming in short painful gasps. My body is hot and sticky from sweat. I realize I’m in my room, that it was just a nightmare, but that’s not all I know. I also know Al is in danger, and that she’s being stalked.
I try to take deep breaths, to try and stop my body from shaking so much
“Katie?” my mom begins, but then stops.
“What did you dream about?” Al asks me, noticing how she’s as pale well…me.
“You.” I say, still shaking a bit.
“You were screaming my name.” she says biting her bottom lip. “You were freaking out and screaming, so that’s when I got your mom.” I nod and look up at the clock; it’s five in the morning.
“Katie” my mom says again. “What’s been going on? Why haven’t you told me about this?” I shrug my shoulders and look down. She sighs and joins me on the bed, which causes me to yank the covers towards me.
“Allison told me about your nightmares. And I saw you thrashing around and screaming when I came in here, a little bit before you woke up.”
“How long were you in here for?” I ask, feeling like a freak on display in my own room.
“Long enough to know this isn’t normal.” She says staring down on me with concern. I nod again, knowing I need to talk to Allison; I don’t have time for this.
“I need to talk to Al for a minute.” I say continuing to stare at the floor. She doesn’t move for a moment, just continues to stare at me. She finally gets up, kisses the top of my head then leaves. Al gets up and closes the door. Thank God.
I rummage around in one of my drawers, pull out some fresh clothes, get up and head to the bathroom. But Al stops me.
“Katie.” She whispers, barley audible.
“What?” I snap, thinking she’s referring to my pants. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” She shakes her head and points a little bit above, at my stomach. I look down at my shirt and gasp. My white shirt now has a fresh red stain in it; I begin to notice a painful stinging coming from my stomach. I look back up at her. She’s paler than I’ve ever seen her. I hesitate a moment, then pull up my shirt for the two of us to see, revealing a fresh gash across it.
Neither of us say anything, we just gasp. I can’t believe it…That’s right where I got stabbed in my dream.We go in the bathroom and wash it off, revealing it was only a small cut, not very deep, just long. I stick band aids across it then walk back over to my bed, looking for the culprit. Al lets me handle the bed search by myself. I look it over several times, but I can’t find anything. Al comes over and gives it a quick glance.
“What’s that?” she asks pointing at something shiny sticking out of one of the towels. I grab it and pull it out. A safety pin, needle side up.
“I must have rolled onto it in my sleep.” I say as the both of us breathe a sigh of relief.
A cold chill sweeps through the room, I look over to see my window open.“Did you open the window?” I ask, noticing how cold it was.
“I thought you opened it, it was open when I woke up.” She says.
“I never open it…” I say as I go to close it. Something on the window sill catches my eye. It’s an envelope. Addressed to…me. I open the window back up and pull it inside.
“What’s that?” Al asks coming closer. I shake my head at read the scribble on the front. Written in read runny ink…almost like…blood. Doesn’t look like any ink I’ve ever seen. And it’s still wet. This is the second story, how did it get up here? Did someone climb up to the roof and stick it up here?
I open the envelope to find a folded piece of paper, folded into four squares. I unfold it and gasp. Written in the same red liquid are the words:
I know you’re having nightmares about me!
Stay out of my way!
Or else I will turn your LIFE into a nightmare!
I gasp, what’s going on? How does he know I’m having nightmares about him?! Who put this outside my window? Was it him? The man from my dream like he says it is? I drop the note onto the floor and start shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. Allison looks from me then to the note on the floor. She picks it up and reads it, a loud gasp escaping from her lips.
“I’m getting your mom.” She says getting up.
“No wait. I have to tell you something!” I take a deep breath and wonder where to start. “Someone is stalking you. The man who wrote this note is the same man in my nightmares, the one that kills you.” I take another deep breath, trying to keep emotion from showing in my voice, but I’m not doing a very good job of it. “He lives in a motel; there are pictures, lots of pictures, at least 30…of you.”
“What…?” she asks her voice beginning to tremble. She jumps up and a second later reappears with my mom. She looks at me, then at my pajama bottoms, which I was stupid enough not to immediately change, and gives me another concerned look.
“I can explain.” I say, trying to cover myself with a pillow.
“What’s happened to you?” she whispers. But I realize she wasn’t looking at my pants at all, but at my stomach, where all the blood is on my shirt.
“Oh, that. I rolled onto a safety pin in my sleep.” I say, still hiding behind a pillow.
Her eye brows furrow at me and she replies with, "Katie…did you…? She asks slowly after looking from me to my bed, then back at me, motioning with her hand to what I was trying to hide behind the pillow. I hang my head in despair as she walks up and takes the pillow away. I keep my head down as I grab the clothes I had sitting on the bed that I was going to change into and run into the bathroom. Maybe I’ll just stay in here. For an hour or two, or maybe ten. After five minutes I hear a knock at the door, but I don’t answer it. I just pretend not to exist. Maybe they’ll just go away.
I can hear the two of them talking; Al’s probably catching my mom up to speed with the whole thing. I look down and realize I still have the note in my hand. I study it for a few minutes, wondering what was used to write it, it’s too big to be a pen, it’s definitely handwritten. Chills go up my back. Okay it can’t be LITERALY handwritten. The most disturbing image goes through my mind. I see a hand, the other poking one of its fingers with a needle just enough to get it to bleed a little, then using it as a pen.
I try to shake the idea out of my head; it’s probably just a red marker. If you get it wet it will run like that.
I change and wait, not quite ready to go back out yet. I can still hear them talking to each other. A couple minutes later someone knocks on the door again.
“Katie, come out.” My mom pleads. "Allison told me what’s been going on."I don’t say anything; I just stand there still sort of shaking from everything, staring at the door. I can’t stay in here forever so I finally decide to come out. I open the door a crack, and see my mom standing by the door; her back turned looking towards Allison. I take a deep breath, muster the last bit of courage I have, and walk out, note in tow. “Katie.” My mom says when she realizes I’ve come out. I don’t say anything, I just hand her the note. She pauses a moment, trying to read my expression, then takes the note from me.
I watch as I see her face go white, then red, then an almost green color, then back to white. She looks up from the note to me, her eyes slightly watering.
I guess we shouldn’t have dumped this on her all at once. I notice her hands are slightly shaking. She just shakes her head and sits down at the computer chair. The room becomes quiet, an eerie kind of quiet.
“Katie, what did you dream about tonight?” she asked, sounding dead serious. So I told her about being at a Motel 6, going in one of the rooms and seeing all this stuff devoted to Allison, then about him catching me and telling me I should have minded my own business, then getting stabbed in the stomach.
She looks at my nightshirt again, blood streaking across it. Coincidence? I think not.
This is so not how I wanted my sophomore year of high school to turn out.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 11)
Subscribed, on the mailing list, F5 every two seconds, auto refresh, camped out in front for the midnight release, bouncing in my chair…
You get the idea.
You really should go through this with a fine-tooth comb. Maybe read it out loud. Even I noticed spelling errors, words out of order, and occasional wordiness. It’s a very interesting story, but it could use some technical polish.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 11)
ugh, really? You wouldn’t believe the amount I’ve already had to fix on these chapters. Clearly my 16 year old self didn’t know what punctuation meant. (Apparently neither does my 24 year old self if I’m still missing a whole bunch)
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 11)
By the time the sun slowly rises. we are already up and dressed, none of us could go back to sleep after last night. Except my mom anyway.
Do you want to know how much a help she is? She thinks this is all a prank, revenge for the whole bra tree thing she says. I’m not joking.
Last night after we calmed ourselves down, she announces it has to be a prank. That there’s no one after us, and that we are all completely safe. If only that were true. She says it’s because when Alyssa read my journal out, she announced to everyone I was having nightmares. Someone must have put together that morning with the tree incident and linked me to the tree. It’s revenge for freezing their bras and hanging them out for the boys to see.
Thanks mom, thanks a whole lot!
Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I be bothered by normal teenage girl stuff? Like for instance my hair, or if so-and-so likes me?
No. Not me, I have to worry about whether or not me and my best friend are being stalked by some psychopath. Just peachy.
So, with my mom blowing the whole thing off as a prank, she sends us off to school. Damn. I was hoping this “being stalked” thing had some perks like, for instance, it’s too dangerous to go to school so I get to stay home. Nope. I have to go to school with the possibility of someone taking pictures of us. Life just can’t get any better than this.
At least Al believes me, being it’s also her life that’s in danger as well as mine. That is unless I mind my own business. But how can I mind my own business at a time like this? My best friend is getting stalked, there is no way I’m going to just sit back and let her get killed. No way. Even if no one else believes me.
Before we left I grabbed all my necessary things, cell phone, house keys, and brass knuckles.
Yes, I have a pair of brass knuckles. I’ve never actually USED them or anything. I found them at a thrift store, and I thought it would be fun to intimidate guys with them. Who in their right mind would mess with a girl who owns a pair of brass knuckles? Only one being of the physco stalker persuasion that’s who. Okay my mom totally doesn’t know I have them, she’d take them from me faster than I could come up with an excuse as to why I have them in the first place. She would freak.
You should have seen the look I got from the lady working the checker when I bought them. I was like twelve, hair in braids and everything, the perfection reflection of innocence. Coming up to the counter, giving off a cute big smile, then CLUNK! On the counter it goes. She must have stared at me for a full five minutes before she rang it up. She even asked me if I knew what it was.
I just nodded and smiled sweetly at her, waiting patiently for her to finish so I could high-tail it out of there before she changed her mind.
I’m still in shock, four years later, that she actually sold them to me. That, and the fact that they were illegal, can’t believe they were even selling them there. Especially to a twelve year old.
Oh well, guess they needed the money or something. The important thing is that I have them now so I have some form of protection.
I realized ,to my dismay, as soon as we got to school, looking over our shoulder for psychotic stalking photographers along the way, that I was going to have to ditch them in my locker. If I got caught with them on school grounds, being that they are considered a weapon, I’d either be suspended or be in detention from now till I graduate, or probably expelled.
They also say you’re supposed to be suspended for fighting, but all they do with me is moan, tell me “Didn’t we already have this talk” type lecture and give me a week of detention.Being that those options don’t sound all that much appealing to me, I don’t really want to take any chances. I walk down to my locker to stick them in there.
I can never remember the combination, so anyone who knows me well knows what I do. I scratch it into the corners of the locker.
I look up at the tiny scratched in number in the upper left hand corner, turn the knob to the left, look up at the upper right side, turn the knob to the right. Then finally look at the bottom for the final digit.
Click.
If you looked in there, you’d never know it belonged to a girl. No cases of makeup or hand bags inside. I don’t ever use my locker, being that it is inconveniently located in the middle of nowhere. I haven’t a single class in this area. So my locker serves for more of a personal trashcan than anything.
I stuff it in the back behind a couple books and stuff, then close it and take off.
Word travels pretty fast in a high school. Not only has everyone heard of the stunt we pulled at the lake, they already have pictures.
A certain one of them, which I shall not mention, had been taped to the front of my locker. It’s now in many pieces sitting in the bottom of a trash can.
At least that’s not the only one going around; there are plenty of good ones going around Alyssa. That at least makes me feel a smidge bit better, knowing I’m not the only one suffering here. I’m surprised I’m taking this so well, normally I’d go hunt down the person who did this and break their nose. I guess there are just other things on my mind.
The whole nightmare thing must really be taking a toll on my body, I feel so incredibly tired today. All through my first few subjects I could barely keep my eyes open. So pretty much nothings changed there. I only perked up a bit at lunch, guess who’s sitting with us: Jamie, Josh, and Anthony.
I actually don’t mind his friends so much. There’re kind of cool…in a geeky sort of way. But look whose talking; I’m queen of the geeks. Oh well, I guess it beats being Lord of the Flies.
Josh is apparently an expert lock picker, brags he can pick any lock in the school.
Maybe he can pick the lock for the broken down girls bathroom next to my World History class. The stupid things been out of order since I started coming here in the first place. “Renovations” they say. Well hurry it up already; I’m sick of walking a half a mile every time I have to go to the bathroom, only to have to wait half an hour in a mile long line.
I’m seriously about to fall asleep in my cafeteria mush they call food. I’m going to die during P.E. At least it’s only Tuesday, due to the whole biology thing we got Monday off to rest and whatnot, so we don’t have to run. I’d probably fall asleep in the grass if we did.
“Are you okay?” Jamie asks me as Jaclyn and Josh fight over which band rocks the most. Al hasn’t said that much either though; guess we’re both a little out of it today.
“Yeah, I’m okay, just tired.” I say, lifting my head back up and giving him a fake reassuring smile.
“Did anything happen last night?” he asks. Huh? How would he know if anything happened? Is my mom right? Did he put the card there to scare me after I opened up to him at Bio camp as some mean joke? “You just seem so out of it.” He continues “Did you have another nightmare?” Okay sure, I’m suspicious of him, but I can’t help it. There’s this weird little fluttering in my stomach when he asked, and I’m pretty sure my face turned a bright shade of pink. Argh I need to snap out of it, I need to stay focused. But those eyes!
Those electric blue magnets that pull me into answering his questions. I nod, my eyes still locked onto his.“What was it about?” he asks after a long awkward pause. I was probably going to answer too, but the bell rings.
“Sorry, I got to go.” I say as I jump up, welcoming the excuse. I run over to the gym, okay I wasn’t exactly running, more like forcefully dragging my butt over there. I don’t know if I can make it through the rest of the day.
There is one thing I’ve learned. When playing volleyball, don’t fall asleep. That’s what happened.
We were playing volleyball for P.E. and I kind of dozed off, and the next thing I know I’ve got a face full of volleyball. Apparently during my little nap, someone spiked the ball, and it smashed right into my face. Now I’ve got a nosebleed.
At first the teachers all, “Walk it off!” until she saw the blood anyway. Then she sent me straight to Amanda’s office. I made a little detour on my way to grab my backpack out of the locker room. I’m tired; maybe she’ll let me go home. When I got there, I could see she was busy with some guy claming to have a “Stomach ache.”
I could tell by the expression on his face he was totally faking it so he could go home early. That or he’s a total wimp. Guys could not last a day with menstrual cramps. He doesn’t know the word of stomach ache. I turn around and think I’ll come back later when she wasn’t busy and all, but she already saw me.
“Katie! Glad you’re here, I’ll be with you in a minute, have a seat.” She calls out from the back room.
I decline the offer of taking a seat. I don’t want to go in with a nosebleed and come out with the stomach flu. Instead I go up to the sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror. There’s blood all over my face, and on my lips. I grab a paper towel wet it down in the sink and hold it up to my nose, attempting to wipe all the blood off. I look down and notice there’s a nice collection of it down the front of my shirt, at least it was just my gym shirt.
I stare in the mirror, watching behind me as Amanda gives in to the guys’ complaints and sends him home with a note. Probably more so to get rid of him than anything.
She gets up and escorts him out, and as soon as he is out and down into the office, she motions for me to go into the back room, while following suit behind me and closes the door.
“Hello, Katie.” She says as she turns a chair around, sitting in it facing me. She motions for me to sit down on the bed. I hesitate a moment, trying not to think about how many sick kids have sat here before me. But if most are like that one guy, I think I’ll live. I sit down, sitting as far on the edge as I can.
“You don’t look so good, are you feeling okay?” she asks, studying my face.
“I’m just tired, I actually was sent because of my nose. It was bleeding a little, got hit with a volleyball.” I say motioning to the blood that dripped down the front of me.
“Oh,” she says getting up to look a little better. After she finishes poking and prodding it, despite my desperate pleas not to, she gets up and gets me a bag of ice which I gladly accept and hold to my nose.
“Anything else bothering you?” she asks, seeing right through my insistencies that I’m fine. After a few minutes I give in and tell her about the nightmare I had last night, and about how I woke up with my stomach bleeding from the pin. She listens through the whole thing, not saying anything until I finished.
“There’s more isn’t there?” she asks, staring into my eyes.
“It’s real.” I say barley above a whisper. “Something happened last night. Something outside of a dream. Something real that confirms these dreams aren’t well…dreams.” I say as I dig through my backpack and pull out a sandwich bag containing the letter inside the envelope.
I pull out the envelope addressed to me and hand it to her. She thoroughly looks the front over before turning it to the back and opening it up. She takes out the folded over paper and slowly unreels it, revealing the red lettering I’ve memorized by heart. She gives it one read through and looks back up at me.
I begin to start shaking again. She seems a little edgy herself, as she folds the paper back up and sticks it back in the envelope. She puts it back in the bag, handing it back to me as if it burns at the mere sight of it.
“Where did you find this?” she asked, no longer able to hide the trembling in her voice.
“Outside my window.” I say, my voice also raising few octanes. “Right after I woke up. My window was open, and there it was, just sitting there. Still wet and everything.” I start to feel dizzy from exhaustion, and am having a hard time sitting up.
“I want you to go home.” She says after a minute of thought. “Get some sleep. Lock all the doors and windows. I think we are in need of another nightmare.”
Okay normally I’d object, I so did not want to have any more nightmares, it’s driving me straight to the ground. But I heard one word I wanted desperately. Sleep.
So I agree, grab my backpack, a written note from her to get off campus, and in case anything happens like the envelope, her cell phone number to call.
I thank her and start the endless journey home, my head pounding with each step as I begin to wonder if I’ll be able to make it home. My heart rate picking up more heavier with every movement.
“I’m half way there,” I tell myself as I drag my legs forward with each step. Each time I move them, the heavier they feel, my eyelids like tiny weights attached to my face. Three-fourths of the way there. I’m practically panting now, breathing as if I’ve just been running. “Just a little bit farther,” I tell myself. My eyes begin to burn. How badly I want to close them. To just lay down in the grass and not get up.
I can see my house, just a little bit further I tell my legs. My feet feel like they must weigh fifty pounds each at least. I’m having an extremely hard time breathing, short painful gasps coming out; everything’s starting to fade out. I stumble around with my house keys trying to fit it into the slot, I can barley make out what I’m doing, all I know is I want to just give up and lay down on the porch. I unlock the door, close and lock it behind me.
I stare up at the stair case; I don’t think I can do it. And I don’t know how I did, but I somehow managed it make it up all 19 steps and into my room where I collapsed onto my bed. The last thing I remember is praying.
“God please, even if it’s just tonight. No nightmares.” I plead and close my burning eyes for the rest of the day and all through the night.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 11)
you are doing a great job, don’t let any negativity stop you from contributing more
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 11)
Thank you I appreciate the support, but they are right. I need to improve and how can I if no one points it out?
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 12)
My mom’s shaking me awake; I roll over and open my eyes to see what she wants. And to my surprise it’s already morning.
“How are you feeling?” she asks as I close my eyes again.
“Tired.” I moan back up at her, angry for waking me up.
“You’ve been asleep for last eighteen hours. Yesterday afternoon the school nurse called me and said she sent you home to get some sleep, but I didn’t know you were this tired.” I give another moan up at her and roll over in the opposite direction just wishing she’d just let me go back to sleep.“Do you really want to stay home in bed all day?” she asks disapprovingly. I would like nothing more. I pull the covers over my head as a sign of approval. I hear a deep sigh come from her then something about how she needs to go to work, and then she leaves. Yes!
I unglued myself from bed, trying my best to ignore the dizzy sensation, and wobble over to the bathroom.
Okay this proves it’s the nightmares fault! If I can sleep for 18 hours straight without wetting the bed, but can’t after 4 hours with a nightmare, this proves it. Sixty seconds later I’m back in bed and covers completely covering my head. Another eighteen hours of this doesn’t sound so bad.
I look around the room, there’s a black sofa sitting in the corner with a computer in another. A picture of fruit hanging from one of the neutral painted walls. The carpet a deep blue color, judging by its condition, there’s a noticeable no shoe rule. I’m in Allison’s living room.
A loud buzzing noise suddenly fills the room, as I see Allison’s mom coming down the hall to answer the phone. I quickly try to think of an excuse as to why I’m suddenly standing in the middle of her house. I run into the kitchen as to not be seen. I peek out the kitchen door, careful not to be seen. She walks out into the living room and picks up a phone.
“Hello?” she says. I see her face scrunched up in confusion for a few moments. Then turn white. “Who is this?” she demands.
Okay I’ll admit, I’m curious now. I walk further into the kitchen, unable to stop myself, and pick up the receiver. I mean what if this is the same person calling Al?
I hold it up to my ear and hear a deep male voice say, “You know who this is.” There are a few deep breaths coming from the other side; almost as if she’s been dreading this phone call for a long, long time. Her voice sounds shaky and nervous.
“I thought I told you never to contact us.” There’s silence for a few moments, she seems to be holding her breath.
“It’s been what? At least thirteen years and that’s all you’re going to say to me?” There’s a certain confidence about his voice that gives me the chills. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and nobody’s going to stand in his way. I know that voice from somewhere, but I can’t figure out where.
“What do you want, Ryan?” she says angrily and scared at the same time. Ryan? His names Ryan?
“You know what I want.” Ryan says the same eerie confidence in his voice. I can almost picture a sick twisted smile on his face.
“No!” she raises her voice into the receiver. My hands begin to sweat, the phone becoming slippery and wet inside my hands. Who is this? And why do I have this feeling in my stomach that I know him from somewhere?
“It’s my turn.” He says.
“No! You can’t!” she yells and slams the phone down. I peek out and notice she is lying on the couch, her head in her arms. I was about to put the phone back down, but the man speaks again…to me.
“Now, now, Katie. Eavesdropping is so unlike you.” I freeze. How does he know my name? How does he know I’m eavesdropping? I try to swallow, but my mouth has gone completely dry. Is he watching me? “Didn’t we already discuss this? I thought I told you to mind your own business.” I hear a clicking sound then a dial tone, I hang up the phone.
My palms completely soaked. He’s watching her! He’s watching me! He knows who I am. And worst of all, he is the man from my nightmares!
“Go to the bathroom before bed!”
Riiiiiiiiiiing.
I’m jolted awake by the sound of the phone ringing. I lay there for a second and let myself breathe. I look up at the clock and it’s nearly 2 in the afternoon. Have I been asleep that long? I try to get up, but I feel so dizzy so I let my head fall back onto my pillow. Why am I so tired? I’m not sick am I? I’ve been sleeping for the last twenty four hours. The phone stops ringing, and I let the answering machine pick it up, but whoever it is doesn’t leave a message.
“Fine with me.” I say to myself as a close my eyes again.
Riiiiiiing.
I jerk them open again, whoever called is calling again. Argh, I just want to sleep. I try to force myself out of bed, and then notice all the dampness.
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Why does this keep happening?! I’ve only been asleep for five hours! Nothing happens after having been asleep eighteen hours straight, but no! Fall asleep for a couple hours and wham; I’m lying in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. If I hear that voice telling me to go to the bathroom before bed one more time I’m going to scream! I have been! And I’m still hearing it, and still I’m waking up like this! I’m so sick of this happening!
Riiiiing
Well whoever’s calling is going to have to wait a minute 'till I get dressed. I kneel down and reach under my bed for all the dirty sheets and whatnot and throw them in the laundry hamper. I get dressed and grab the basket and head down to the basement to do some laundry. After making sure there is nothing red, I dump it all in the washer. It was a little easier this time, and when it came out, nothing was pink! It looked about the way it was supposed to. White.
I hurry up and throw it all in the dryer as I hear the phone ring yet again. Seriously people, it’s called an answering machine. That’s what it’s for! To answer the phone! When I found a phone, I had to sit down, I was exhausted again. Those few steps had taken about all the energy out of me, all the energy that was felt anyway.
“Hello.” I say sounding like I just rolled out of bed.
“Katie, I didn’t wake you up did I?” my mom asks on the other end. Of course she did. She has this gift for dropping in or calling when she is least wanted.
“Yeah, but I was going to get up anyway.” I lie as I carry the phone back to my room, causing me to breathe heavily.
“Katie, have you been running?” she asked.
“No, I just walked from my room, to the phone, back to my room.”
“Are you feeling okay?” She asks taking note to the sound of my uneven breathing.
“I’m okay as long as I don’t get up, but when I do I feel like all the energy drains out of me.” I say climbing back onto my now sheet less bed. “I feel like I haven’t slept in a week.”
“You’ve been asleep for the last 24 hours.” She says. “Maybe I should call the doctor.”
“No! I’m fine! I’m just a little tired, I haven’t been sleeping well, from the whole nightmare thing, and it’s probably just catching up to me.”
I am NOT going to the doctor. I’ve had enough doctors for a while. No matter what I go in for, they either want to draw my blood or give me a shot. To them, needles fix everything.
“Maybe I should make an appointment just in case.” She says. And before I could object she says she has to go and hangs up. I see a big, fat needle with my name on it in my future, and I don’t need a nightmare to tell me so.
I hang up the receiver and pull the covers back over me and let my mind spin a little. Ryan? Ryan what? How is Allison’s mom connected with him?
Instead of going back to sleep like I had planned to do, I get up and raid the fridge for something caffeinated that Alex has left behind. And voila!
I spot something with a Starbucks logo on it and quickly snatch it up, plug my nose, and down it as fast as I can. Under any normal conditions for me, after drinking whatever it was I drank, I’d be bouncing off the walls, or I’d at least match Allison’s energy.
Whatever it is that’s wrong with me right now, all it gave me was about a half-hour to be able to keep my eyes open. I used the time to Google the name Ryan, which pretty much got me no where due to 4,750 pages came up and there was no way I was going to sit there and look through all of them.
Instead I exited out and looked up Motel 6 and found out there wasn’t one too far away. I could probably get there on my bike, if I could actually stand up past thirty-seconds anyway, so that’s not really an option. Plus there’s no way I’m going to go riding around by myself looking for psychopaths, not in my pajamas anyway.
So right when I’m about to snuggle back up with my blankets, the phone rings, yet again. I was totally expecting it to be my mom saying she set up a doctor’s appointment for me so I could become a human pin cushion. But instead it was Al, wondering why I took off yesterday and why I wasn’t at school today.
“Oh, well yesterday, I had a nose bleed and had to go see Amanda, who sent me home because I was tired.”
“Katie. How many times do I have to tell you?” Al said, sounding sincere.
“Tell me what?” I ask generally curious as she has to remind me of practically everything. What did I forget to do this time?
“Haven’t we had this discussion before?” she says, sighing into the receiver. What did I do? Did I forget to do something? Was I supposed to call her to tell her I was leaving? She’s had to talk to me about everything, how am I supposed to remember a particular discussion involving sick leave?
“Umm…No.” I say, racking the back of my brain for any clue as to what she want be referring to.
“Katie.” She says again. “We all know your secret.” What? What secret? What did I get caught doing this time? Do they think I was faking it or something?
“What?” I ask a slight nervous tone in my voice.
“We all know how you really got that nosebleed.” She says, sounding more threatening by the minute.
“Umm…because I fell asleep during a game of volleyball.” I say, trying to think of what she could possibly be thinking of.
“That’s just what you want us to believe. Wouldn’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, slightly annoyed. She’s really not making any sense now. I can hear her giggling in the background, oh great what now?
“You wouldn’t have so many nosebleeds if you would just learn to keep your finger out of there.” She finally says, erupting out in a fit of giggles.
Ha. Ha. That’s Al for you. REAL comedian…
“Very funny.” I say sarcastically, feeling myself nodding off again; my heart rate kicking up.
“What’s up with you any way? I called your house like five times after you wouldn’t answer your cell phone. Every time your mom picked up she said you were still asleep.”
"
Oh, Yeah. I think I’m sick again with…something. I’ve been asleep ever since I came home yesterday."
“Oh, well, don’t give it to me; I have something important I need to do on Friday. I can’t afford to be sick.”
“Who’s Ryan?” I ask, propping myself up onto my elbows, leaning against the headboard.
“Huh? Ryan who? The guy who likes to cheat off me in Geometry? Or the one who compares everything he does with an episode from Star Trek.”
“Umm… neither. Like maybe one your mom knows or something.” I add casually.
“I don’t know. Why?” she asks. Okay there’s no way she’d believe me now if I said I was just curious. People don’t just go around asking if people’s moms know psychopaths named Ryan. Although with the way things have been going lately, I’m not about to pass this off as “weird”. It’s been about the most normal conversation I’ve had lately. “It came from a nightmare didn’t it?” she said after a moment of silence. “You just said you’ve been asleep for the last 24 hours. You had to have dreamed something, so spill.” She really is too smart for her own good.
"Well yeah. Your mom was-"I start but am immediately stopped by Al’s shout of concern.
“She doesn’t die does she?” she blurts out. “You’re not like hacking all my family members off in your sleep are you?”
“Umm… No. Don’t worry; no one dies in this one. They were just talking on the phone.”
“Oh. Did she know him?” she asks as she breaths a sigh of relief.
“Yeah. It was like she dreaded the phone call. Almost like she’s secretly been waiting for it in the back of her mind.”
“Oh,who was the guy?” she asked.
“The same guy who tried to blow our brains out.” I say casually.
“What did he want with my mom?” I pause for a moment to remember, gliding my hand through my hair as I do so. Hmm, I know there was something to do with him wanting something from her, but I never found out what it was. What did Allison’s mom have that he wanted? What would a psychopath want that belongs to a random middle-aged woman?
She’s a FLORIST. What does a FLORIST possibly have? A highly dangerous, destructive…flower? You sneak it into a dozen roses; the unsuspecting target sniffs it, and then drops down dead? I don’t think so.
“He wanted something from her.” I finally say after giving it a moments thought. “I don’t know what though. She knew what is was, but she wouldn’t give it up. She was really mad and scared that he called.”
“I’ll ask her later. I got to go. I’ll call you later.” She said hastily and hung up. Finally! I can go back to sleep! Or so I thought. As soon as I lay my head down; the phone rings yet again. My mother announces she made me a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow. Joy. When I finally get off the phone, relax and close my eyes, ready to forget everything and fall asleep, you guessed it! The phone rang AGAIN! When will you people leave me alone? This time it was Jaclyn, calling to make sure I wasn’t dead or something.
“Why weren’t you in school today?! I had to give that English speech by myself yesterday too after you ditched! No thanks to you.”
Or not…
“Sorry. I was sent home sick.” I say, slightly annoyed.
“Oh, right, I forgot about that. Al told us all about how you picked your nose to death so you could get out of class. That’s a new one, even for someone who lives with three brothers.” If Al and I survive this whole stalker thing, I swear, I think I just might kill her myself. Jaclyn must have sensed the anger steaming off the phone, since she hastily threw in a, “She was joking of course, she wasn’t serious.”
Well, that about saved Allison from getting chopped up into 27 identical pieces. Lucky her. I might even be nice enough to only sever her into fifteen pieces instead. Anyone care for a little Al a la carte? How about a dash of Eau De Allison? In this case, I shall bring a whole new meaning to the phrase you just got served.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 13)
After a ten minute conversation, which consisted of me drilling into Jaclyn’s skull that the reason I had a nosebleed had nothing to do with the placement of my fingers at the time. She finally she just sighs,“You’re no fun.” and hangs up.
Well sooorrr-rrryyy. I’m not exactly in the mood to be “fun”. Fun time ends when scary threatening letters start arriving on your window sill.
Nobody is going to call anymore! Want to know why? I did something I should have done a long time ago. I unplugged the phone line. Oh, yeah, smart huh? For the third and final time, I lay, and to my pleasure, nothing happened to interrupt.
^-^
Light tan walls stare back at me, as I stand again in a familiar looking room. I’m in Allison’s house again. But I’m not alone this time; her mom is sitting atop the leather couch, a blank expression formed across her face. Her hands wrapped around her face, elbows resting on top her knees, which she nervously bounces up and down. As if she’s waiting for something. Just as I start to wonder what it could be, I can hear keys jingling outside the front door, playing with the lock, then the door opening.
“Hi, mom. I’m home.” Allison calls out from the front room. She walks in, her gaze going right past me, to her mom sitting on the couch.
She looks up and gives her a weak smile.
“How was school?” she asks, avoiding eye contact with her.
“It was fine…What’s wrong?” Al asks, noticing her mothers’ slightly unusual behavior. Ms. Walltz just continues to jitter nervously, cupping her hands and rubs them together a few times before answering.
“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” she says, still failing to meet her eyes.
“Because you look like you’re about to freak out about something.” Ms. Walltz takes a deep breath and holds it in before loudly blowing it out.
“We need to talk.” She says, looking as if she regretted saying it the moment the words left her lips.
“Sure,” Al says as she takes a seat on the couch facing her mom. “What’s wrong? Did some thing happen?”
“No…well yes. Sort of. I… I lied to you.” She says finally, her voice slightly crackling.
“What do you mean? Lied about what?”
“About your dad.” She says, taking in a deep breath.
“My…dad? What about him? You said he left when he found out you were pregnant.”
“I lied. He didn’t leave us…we left him.” She says as she looks back down at the floor.
“What…?” Allison asks, clearly dumbstruck and confused at the thought.
“You have to understand though; I did it for your own good.” She stammers. I look over at Allison, as the whole situation seems to have clicked in her head.
“You took me away from my dad…You’re the reason he’s not in my life?” she asks, tearing her eyes away from her mom.
“I did it to protect you, you must understand that.” Ms. Walltz says, looking up at her daughter.
“By lying to me my whole life? Why, what did he do?”
“He wasn’t all…there. He was sick, mentally. He started becoming violent towards me, he would stay out all night and come home drunk.” She took another deep breath, choking on the memories of it all. “He was a devout atheist, and at the time, so was I. But I started feeling as though there was something missing in my life, and I told him this. It sent him off on a violent rampage, screaming, throwing things at me. Yelling on about how I was being unfaithful, that he should be enough to make me happy.” She pauses, and pulls back her thin, black hair, revealing a thick scar above her left eyebrow. I’ve seen this many times, but never learned how she had gotten it. I watch as she grazes her fingers across it.
“I take it you didn’t get that from falling.” Allison says quietly, staring intensely at her mother. She shakes her head.
“I told him I was taking a class at the community college, when in reality I started attending a church in the area near there. It was there where I came to know God and become a Christian. Well…One of the church members ran into him in town, and told him about how they enjoyed having me in their church.” She pauses for a moment, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes, but a couple fall out anyway. She hastily wipes them away and continues. “When I came home that night, he was waiting for me in the living room, drunker than I’d ever seen him before. Angry would be an understatement, he was furious, and while he went on his yelling rampage at me; he smashed a beer bottle across my head and knocked me out. When I woke up, it must have been the next day, there was blood all over my head and clothes, and he was nowhere to be found. The first thought that came across my mind was that he thought he killed me. I got up, grabbed you out of your crib and ran for it.” She says, taking another deep breath when she finishes, wiping away the reaming tears in her eyes. Allison looks down, thinking through the whole story she’s been told, wondering whether or not to believe it.
“Why have you never told me this before?” she asks.
“There was never really a need to. I guess I was afraid you would try and go looking for him.”
“Why would I go looking for someone who used to beat you? You could have told me this before.”
“I know… I’m sorry. I just thought, the less you knew about him, the better.” Al nods her head, continuing mulling it about in her head for a few minutes.
“I was already born?” she asks, remembering what was said.
“Yes, you were about two or three. I’m kind of surprised that you don’t remember.”
“I don’t remember anything before living at Grandma and Grandpa’s”
"That’s better then, we were constantly yelling at each other."I look away for a moment to think.
“Katie?” Allison says to me. I look up but she’s not looking at me, she’s still talking to her mom. Huh? I could have sworn she called me. “Katie?” I hear her call me again. I look up once again, but she’s still preoccupied. Weird, I know she called me.
“Allison.” I call back, but she doesn’t respond to me.
“Katie!” I hear her call out again. What’s going on? How is she talking to me, she doesn’t even know I’m here.
“Go to the bathroom before bed!”
I feel a hand grab onto my arm. I open my eyes and blink for a few moments. I see Al standing over my bed, shaking me awake. Another dream.
“I’m awake.” I say sitting up a little. My mom walks in and asks how I’m doing. “Fine.” I say, wishing she would leave.
“Well get up and come downstairs, you’ve been in bed for the last two days.” She says, coming closer.
“Uh, in a minute.” I say, wishing more than ever for her to just nod and go back downstairs. But oh no!
“Now!” she says, standing beside my bed with Al. “I don’t want you falling back asleep. You need to get up and join the living.”
“And I will, just give me a minute.” I mumble into my blanket. I look up at Al, hoping she’ll get the picture and the two of them will go downstairs and make small talk, leaving me to my puddle. But she’s not even looking at me; she seems perfectly distracted by something outside my window. She snaps out of it, and looks at the desperation in my face.
“Now!” my mom says, ready to yank the covers off. Al stops her.
“Hey, um, Ms. Devo can I talk to Katie for a minute?” she asks. My mom stares back down at me, and I watch in horror as her eyes get all big. I stare back at my blankets, pulling them back up to my chin, wishing I’d just disappear. She snorts my name in disgust, shakes her head down at me and storms off. Well, that went well. Not.
“Well…that was pleasant.” I say.
“Nightmare?” she asks.
“Of course.” I say, my face now glowing redder than Christmas lights. She nods sympathetically down at me and offers to scoot out for a few. I do my now routine bed clean up, get dressed, hide the evidence, empty a bottle of air freshener, and let Al back in. Maybe I won’t chop her up after all.
“So…what happened?” she asks, getting straight to the point.
“Oh, I don’t really know what this one had to do with any of this.” I say, not quite sure if I should tell her or not.
“What was it about?” she asks.
“Well… I’m not sure how I should put this.”
“Out with it.”
“It was about your dad.”
“Oh.” She says, going quiet. “I don’t want anything to do with him. He hurt my mom, and he obviously didn’t want me.” She says, pounding her fist into my mattress. I wonder if she already knows. “Well, what happened?” she asks after a moment of awkward silence.
“Umm… I don’t think I’m the one to tell you.” I say, staring down at my bitten off fingernails.
“What do you mean? You’re the only one who knows whatever’s going on in your crazy little head.”
“No, I mean, it was about a conversation you’re going to have with your mom. It’s about your dad.” I say, nibbling at what remains on the tips of my fingers.
“Well, if she’s going to tell me he’s dead or something, you can tell me that, it won’t bother me. It’s not like I knew him or anything, I wasn’t even born when he left.” I bite down harder on my finger, causing to bleed a little in my mouth. “Well, whatever. What does he have to do with this whole thing?”
“I don’t know. It was kinda out of place. That’s the second dream in a row I’ve had about you and your mom.”
“Weird.” She says. I hear a familiar tune, as Al digs around in her pocket for her cell phone.
“Hello?” Her face tightens and strains to hear whoever is on the other line. “Hello? Who is this?” she demands into the phone, her face turning a white flour color. She hangs up and stares at it for a moment before stuffing it back in the pocket of her jacket and looking back up at me.
“What was that about?” I ask. “And don’t even think about giving me that whole ‘wrong number’ thing.”
She shrugs her shoulders and goes, “Just some guy trying to scare me.”
“Why, what did he say?” She just shakes her head. I was about to pursue the matter more, but my cell phone rings. I snatch it up off my nightstand and answer it.
“Hello?” I ask after a couple of seconds staring at the screen saying “restricted number”. Heavy breathing. “Hello?” I ask, getting annoyed.
“Didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?” a muffled voice says on the other end. It’s him.
“Who are you?” I demand. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want.” He says again, the same eerie confidence rolling off his tongue and into his voice.
“What do you want from her?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“Her life.” He says, starting to laugh, a laugh that sends chills up through my whole body. “Why? Why do you want her? Do you even know her?” I ask, barley above a whisper.
“Oh, I know all about her. I’ve had my eye on her for many months now. I know her address, I know her friends, I know her school, and I know which classes she takes and when. I even know her locker combination. Let’s not forget her cell phone number.” My heart pounds into my chest, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I want to hang up, but I can’t move. I swallow. Hard.
“Why are you doing this?” I whimper, nothing but fear flowing out of my voice.
“Because she’s one of… them.” He says, pure disgust in his voice.
“One of what?” I ask, more then one finger bleeding at this point.
“You know what. You know what she…is.” I turn around, so my back now faces her and I drop my voice.
“That’s what this is all about?” I ask dumbfounded. “You want to kill her because she believes in God?”
“They disgust me! They’re all idiots!” he yells into the phone so loud, I’m forced to pull it away from my ear."
“You’re…crazy” I stammer.
“I’m the crazy one?” he asks truly bewildered, he breathes in for a moment and laughs, almost sounding pleased. “You shouldn’t be the one to talk. I don’t know very many fifteen year olds who still wet the bed…every night. And wait, there’s more. Haven’t you done that twice today already? And what? It’s only five.” How does he know all this…? How does he know I’ve been wetting the bed, at all really, but every night? And today? How does he know that?
“Not much of a purpose having a bathroom in your room if all you ever do is just go there in bed.” I feel my face turn red with shame and anger.
“It’s… not my fault.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night. By the way, I’m not completely heartless. I’ll give your friend an option. There’s only one thing she needs to do, she does it, and I’ll go away for good. No more phone calls, no nothing.”
“What?” I squeak.
“She has to deny it. She has to stand in front of everyone at school and say ‘I don’t believe in God.’ I’ll swing by some time and give her a little…motivation. She does it. I’ll go away. If she doesn’t…well, let’s just say you better start looking for a new best friend.” He laughs. I’m shaking at this point. Shaking hard. Crying too, Al definitely knows something’s up. She walks up next to me and places a hand on my shoulder.“Well, it’s been nice having this little chat. It’s been really fun. We should do it again some time soon. Don’t bother calling the police by the way. They’ll never believe you. What would you tell them? You dreamed it was going to happen?” he says, laughing again. “Before I hang up, I left you a little present. A couple presents actually. A little something you left behind and a little something extra. No need to thank me. Just remember what we talked about. I expect her to have made a decision before I…swing by.”
Click.
It must have been a full minute before I put the phone down from my ear. A whimper escapes my mouth. What am I going to do? He’s going to kill her!
Tears begin falling from my face. He’s watching her. He’s watching every move she makes. He’s watching me! He knows the inside of my room! He even knows there’s a bathroom in there!
“Katie?” Allison asks quietly. “What happened?” I just shake my head and silently cry. I can’t do this! I can’t deal with this!A sudden chill fills the room; I look over to see the window half-way open.“Al?” I ask through silent sobs. “Did you open the window?” I cry. I know the answer. She looks over, and gasps.
“No. But we’ve got a bigger problem!” she says pointing out the window. I look out, and officially lose it. I collapse on the floor and just cry. What else can I do? Al picks me up by my arm and leads me over to the bed. She doesn’t even know what to do. After a minute she gets up and walks back over to the window and climbs out, over to the tree in the front yard. Good thing too, I couldn’t make it over there, I’d probably fall off the roof.
There, hanging on the tree branches in full view, was a white soiled sheet, and balancing on a near branch, a pack of adult diapers. Attached to that was an envelope with red lettering on the envelope spelling out, Katie.
Al comes back in, arms full of all the things from the tree. She dumps them on the floor and comes back over to me while I’m crying hysterically at this point. But when have I not been lately? If I’m not leaking out the bottom, I’m leaking out the top.
I know I need to pull myself together; I need to tell her what he said. She comes and joins me on the bed, a box of tissue in her hands.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” she asks, handing me the box. I nod my head as I blow my nose. She patiently waits, as I try to compose myself, enough to tell her what happened. I take a deep breath, and spill. I tell her everything. What he said, about her and his proposition and what happens if she declines.
At the end of it, we’re both crying. We’re terrified. The only safe place to be at the moment is in each others arms, crying like seven year olds.
I take back what I said earlier. I don’t want to kill her, or yell at her, I’m not even mad at her. I love her. I can’t let her die, I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. I think a part of me would die as well. I don’t even want to think about it. I can’t, because it’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.
“Maybe we should try calling the police. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe, they will believe us.” Al says. “It couldn’t hurt.”
“Maybe.” I say, as I pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1. Nothing. Arr! I unplugged the phone! Look whose smart now! I pick my cell phone up and dial, wait a few seconds for the operator to pick up, and take a deep breath, preparing myself to spill what’s been happening. Al clings onto my free arm for support. Not sure whose support though, neither of us are holding up too well.
When the operator picks up, I try and tell her what’s happening. I don’t want to tell her about the dreams; she’d think I was crazy. So I try to tell her everything that’s happened outside my subconscious. She tries to assure me that it’s probably a prank and that I’m overreacting. She tells me that everything will be fines so I have no choice. I have to tell her about the nightmares. I have to tell her why I think Al is in real danger, why it’s far from a prank.
“Uh-huh…” she says slowly after I told her all that there is to tell. “Well, there’s nothing I can really do. No real crime has taken place so far. If it will make you feel better, I’ll add an extra patrolman over at the school. But until an actual crime is committed, which I doubt there will be, there’s not much we can do.” And hangs up. She didn’t believe me. Well… I tried. I hang up and throw my cell phone against the wall. I look toward Allison and shake my head in frustration. We sit in silence for a moment.
“Are you going to open it?” she asks after a minute, pointing toward the package of diapers on the floor.
“I’m not opening those.” I say in disgust.
“No, not that, the note attached to it.” She says, pointing down toward the white envelope taped to the side. I get up, pull it off and sit back down. I slide my fingers under the crease and open it up. Al leans over and we both read the note in horror.
Smile pretty for the camera!
I’m watching you!
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 14)
Wow! this is getting intense! and more than a little scary, great job.
The fact that Katie can’t put together this very obvious “mystery”
is a little irritating. But i still really like her, even if she’s not that bright.
I can’t wait for more!. Thank you for sharing.
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 14)
And what mystery are you talking about/ think it is?
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 14)
We stare at the note in my hands, and then at each other. We look around the room in horror, looking in the corners for some hidden camera.
That’s how he knows what’s been going on! What we’ve said, what I’ve been dreaming, and what’s been happening because of them. He’s got a video camera in here! But how? How did he get in here? My rooms a mess! It could be hidden under anything! Time for a little damage control. Al seems to have read my mind; she takes in the room then nods to me in agreement. And so we begin are perilous journey in search of what some would call a “floor”. A long and difficult task awaits us. We may not make it out alive…
My mom came in about an hour later to see what happened, why we never came back down. I think we scared her. She made this really weird noise; we figured it was from shock. I guess it’s been a little while since I actually cleaned my room.
We must have looked everywhere! In every corner, in every space, in every drawer. Nothing. Not a camera to be found.
“Maybe he was just bluffing, just trying to scare us possibly.” I say as I collapse down on the bed, a wave of exhaustion taking over.
“But how does he know about, well…everything?” Al asks doubtful, taking another quick glance around the room. She digs around in her pocket and produces her cell phone. “Huh… I got a text message. Umm… Katie” she said softly, looking down at the screen.
“What?” I ask, sitting back up. “Is it from him?”
“Yeah… but it’s weird.” She says handing me the phone. I look down and see the words, all in caps.
“TIRED” OF ME YET?
“Well if you’re not, I sure am.” I say as I hand it back and lay back down. “Mentally and physically.”
“Why did he put quotes around the word tired?” Al asks.
“I don’t know. He’s a psychopath; they never have good reasons for anything they do.”
Allison’s phone rings again, we freeze on the spot, not sure whether or not to answer it. It rings a few times before Al takes a deep breath and answers.
“Hello?” her face relaxes as the other voice on the other end begins to talk. “It’s my mom.” She mouths to me. “I’m at Katie’s…Oh, okay. I’ll be home in a minute.” She says and hangs up. “I got to go home. Call me if anything else happens.”
“Okay.” I say standing up. “And, Al?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you be okay?” I ask her, our eyes locking for a moment.
She pauses for a moment, as if to be wondering the same thing herself. “I’m okay.” She says after a moment of thought. We exchange hugs one last time before she sets off for home. I pick the letter up off the floor and re-examine it one more time before stuffing it in my desk drawer with the other one. I pace my room as I try to figure out what to do. Should I tell my mom? No, she didn’t believe the last one, what would make you think she’d believe this one. It’s all a big joke to her. A prank.
Who do I tell? Police wouldn’t believe me. My mom won’t believe me; doubt Allison’s mom would take it seriously either. What adult would possibly believe us? Amanda! I reach into my backpack and dig around for the card with her cell phone number on it. I reach over to my cell phone and punch in the numbers, my hands slightly clamming up.
“Katie!” she says after recognizing my voice. “Glad you called, what happened? Any new nightmares or clues?”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a bigger problem.” I say, wiping my hands on my pants. I try my best to control my voice and tell her about the phone call and card that I received. There’s no way to hide it though. I was scared, and no matter how much I tried to hide it, the sound of fear came out anyway. When I finish, my body was shaking again, about just as much as my voice. “Me and Allison looked everywhere for a camera, we even looked outside a little on the roof. We couldn’t find anything. Do you think he was for real, or was he just trying to scare us?”
“You said earlier that he knew things about your room, where certain things were, and things that happened that you didn’t tell anyone.”
“Yeah, but I can’t figure out how. It’s got to be a camera; he knew certain…phrases that were used in the nightmares that I didn’t tell anyone about. Things I probably yelled out in my sleep.” I say, looking up at the ceiling. There’s this annoying feeling now in the back of my mind, a feeling of being watched. Let me tell you, it is NOT fun! If he is really watching me, he’s probably watching me change! I’m not changing in here anymore! I’ll just change in the hall bathroom. Showers. I gasp. Is he monitoring the bathroom? Yeah, I’m not going in there anymore! I’ll just use the shower in my moms’ room. If she asks why, I’ll tell her the light burnt out, it’s usually about two weeks from when I announce it, to when it’s actually fixed, on account of we make Alex fix those kinds of things.
“Yeah… He said he was going to kill Allison unless she denied God in front of everyone at school.” I say, feeling another wave of tears coming through. I hold my breath and wish for them to disappear.
“At school?” she asks as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“Yes, he said he was going to ‘drop by’ some time to give her a little motivation. He said that she needed to have made up her mind by then.”
“Have you told anyone about this? Do your parents know? Have you told Allison?” she asks urgently.
“I’ve told Al, and I’ve tried to tell my mom, but she doesn’t believe me. She thinks it’s a prank.” I say, hugging my pillow. Neither of us says anything for a minute. I start to wonder if she’s even still there.
“I don’t think it’s a prank.” She says sounding sincere, reassuring me that I’m not losing my mind. Finally! Someone who believes me! “Did he give a certain time he was going to do this? A day maybe?”
“No. He just said he’d stop by sometime.” I say, trying to hold back a yawn. No I don’t find this topic boring, quite the opposite, it terrifies me, but something weird has been happening these last few days. I can barely keep my eyes open. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I can’t stay awake much longer.”
“Okay, but have you gone to the doctor yet? You know, Mono has been going around.” Mono, ha! I don’t exactly have to worry about that one. Kissing hasn’t exactly been on my agenda, well…ever.
“Oh, I don’t think that is really an issue for me. I’m to, um… inexperienced in that area.” I say, feeling sort of embarrassed explaining my love life, or lack of, to the school nurse. “Well, I’ll see you at school or something, bye.” I say and hang up. I crash back down on and my bed and happily reunite myself with my blanket and pillow. But leave it to my mom to come up and ruin my happy little reunion and force me out of bed. I don’t care if I’ve been in bed for the last two days, and I probably wouldn’t mind going at it for another two, but apparently my mother thinks otherwise. What might I ask is so wrong with letting me sleep? That’s just extra hours you don’t have to deal with me. I know deep down, that’s what you really want. But oh no! She wants me up and out of bed, for reasons I will never understand.
When I finally manage to actually drag my butt downstairs, it’s only to walk over to the kitchen table and attempt to fall right back asleep, if Alex and my mom weren’t there. I glance up at my mom who’s sitting across from me all stern looking and whatnot. I can tell she’s not exactly the proud mom of a fifteen-year-old-bed-wetting-daughter. She’s still pretty ticked off about that, which is totally unfair because it’s not like I’m too proud of it either. Shouldn’t the humiliation be enough for her? And it’s not like I haven’t done practically everything I can possibly think of to stop it.
She seems to be reading my mind since as soon as I look up at her she’s all, “We’re going to ask about THAT tomorrow too.” Joy.
“Oh. you’re finally going to get those nightmares fixed? Yes! Finally, I can sleep in my own room again!” Alex says as he joins us at the table. We both give,him a puzzled look. “You do know she’s been having nightmares, right?” Alex says to my mom. We both continue to stare at him.
“How did you know that? Did you corner Al in the hallway or something?” I ask, curious as to how he knows this.
“Well, yes and no.” he admits. “If anyone noticed I’ve been sleeping on the couch for the last week and a half.”
“Okay, but what does having spiders in your room have to do with any of this?”
“Not because of spiders, because of you.” Alex says through mouthfuls of cereal. “You’ve been screaming bloody murder in your sleep, and my room’s right next to yours. It was freaking me out, so I’ve been sleeping downstairs.” He grins for a minute and faces me. “You know, you curse more asleep than you do awake. You’ve been using an interesting combination of words last time I was up there. Some I’ve never even heard before. I’m surprised you haven’t been hearing her scream, your door is always open.” He says to mom. Has he forgotten that mom can sleep through anything? A little yelling here and there isn’t going to wake her up.
“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? A little shout here and there isn’t going to wake her up.” I point out.
“No, you don’t get it.” He says. “You’ve been screaming at the top of your lungs and shouting things out .I even went in your room once to see what was going on and it looked like you were trying to kill someone with your sheets. Seriously, no wonder you’re tired, you use all your energy at night trying to kill non existing people.”
“She has?” was all my mom is able to come up with. Alex nods and continues eating.
“So, you said you talked to Allison. When?” I ask, feeling a bit more energy than before.
“Friday night when she was here. She came down in the middle of the night when I was on the couch. I asked her if she knew anything about the screaming, but she just said you’ve been having nightmares.”
“Oh.” I said more to myself than anyone. I wonder if I should tell him. I watch as he gets up and goes upstairs. Well, now would be the time. I get up and follow him, ignoring my moms yells that I better not be going back to bed behind me. I grab him by the arm, pull him into my room, and shut the door.
“Want to know what’s up?” I ask, as I start digging through my desk drawer in search of the notes.
“Sure.” He says, leaning up against the wall. “Umm, what are those for?” he asks, raised eye brows as he points over to the pack of diapers. I run over and kick them under my bed, leaving his question hanging in the air. I pull out the envelopes and set them on my bed. I take a deep breath and tell him what’s happening. The nightmares, the phone calls, the notes, everything. Well okay…almost everything. I must say, as much as I despise my brother at times, it was nice to finally get to talk to someone about this that I was related to.
“Why didn’t you tell mom?” he asks, still staring at the note about the camera in his hands.
“I tried, she thinks this is all a prank.” I say, anger coming out in my voice. “She’s taking me to the doctor tomorrow to get me ‘looked at’.”
“Oh. What is the THAT mom was talking about?” he asks, finally setting the envelope back down on my desk.
“Huh?”
“When you came downstairs, mom said ‘we’re going to ask about THAT tomorrow too.’ What’s the THAT?”
“Oh, nothing you want to know about.” I say, turning my now red face away to face the bookshelf.
“Does it have anything to do with this?” he asks.
“Yes, but I rather not say. It’s…embarrassing.” I mumble.
“What? You can tell me. How embarrassing could it be? It’s not like your wetting the bed or something.” Now would be a really good time for the ground to open up. Please? You don’t even have to be that big, maybe just enough so I can jump into or something or maybe possibly just hide? Nope. Nothing. Nada. My only hope is that he can take it, nice, sensibly, and maturely. Ha!
“Oh my God. You freak! You’ve been wetting the bed?” he yells after I don’t respond, keeping an eye on the floor, still strongly willing for it to open. He bursts out laughing, well, until I kick him anyway, that shuts him up. “Jeez. Okay sorry. It’s funny.” He says, massaging his leg.
“Not really. For you maybe.” I mumble, continuing a blank stare at the floor.
“Well, have you connected it yet?” he asks after he finished laughing.
“Connected what?” I ask, looking up at him.
"Well, you said everything else seemed to have a purpose, I know that, you know, it seems out of place and all, but maybe it’s not. Maybe there’s a purpose for it after all.
“What could possibly be the purpose for that? Even if there was one, is it really all that necessary?” I say doubtfully. Well come to think of it, I could never figure something about it out. “Well, I do hear something weird every time right before I wake up. Every nightmare I’ve had, I hear a voice telling me to ‘Go to the bathroom before bed’.” Another grin stretched across his face. “Stop laughing, I’m serious” I scowl. “He knows my little problem, he sent me diapers. He even sent back a sheet from Bio camp. This is serious! STOP LAUGHING!” Mine and Al’s life could be in serious danger and all my brother can do is laugh because his little sister wets the bed. How immature can he get?
“Okay, settle down.”
“Only if you stop being so immature.” I yell back.
“Okay, okay. Let me think.” He says as he scratches his head. “Has anyone strange been in your room recently?” he asks as he examines my room for hidden cameras.
“Yeah.” I say sarcastically. “You.”
“Ha. No seriously, like maybe during your trip last weekend. Did mom let someone in while you were gone?” he asked, opening my closet.
“Oh. I never thought of that. But why would mom let some weird, bald guy in my room. Let alone long enough to install some freaky surveillance thing.” I say, shooing him away from my closet before he messes up my now clean room that I worked so hard on. Well…that Al worked so hard on, while I fell asleep at the desk. I know that sounds mean, but I was tired, and I did after all, clean out from under my bed. Al would not go near there for obvious reasons. I wasn’t mean enough to make her do that much. And I didn’t even make her; I was totally helping, well, until the tiny bit of energy I had depleted. She did pretty much everything else though. She, as I suspected, was too preoccupied with the fact that someone is trying to kill her to notice something as small as me not helping her clean my own room.
I am the worst friend ever! But hey…I have a floor! And it’s carpeted. I can actually lay down on the floor and stick my arms and legs out. And to top it all off, I can do this AND not hit anything! Normally if I tried that, I’d break something. Whether it is something in my room, me, or both. Something will get broken, I can guarantee that.
I lay down on the floor, admiring the fact that I am still on one piece and that giant dust bunnies have not, in fact, picked me up and carried me away to their leader. If me and Al live through this, I might even make an attempt to keep it this way. Maybe…
“Why don’t you ask her?” I ask lazily staring up at him as I start to feel myself drift back to sleep.
“Do you really think you’re in danger?” he asks, standing over me, looking down into my face.
“Yeah.” I say, lifting an eyelid.
“Then this is something the two of you need to work out. I’m not getting into this.” He says as he leaves my room.
“Argh.” I moan at the thought of getting up and asking myself. But if I don’t, she’s going to see me falling asleep and get all menopausal on me again. That and it’s not like I can change the carpet if I accidentally fall asleep here. Not the best of choices. I eventually drag myself off the floor and walk/crawl downstairs to join everyone else. Or as my mom put it, “the living”.
“Oh, good you’re here.” My mom says as I about pass out on the kitchen table. “I was just about to go check up on you.” Uh-huh…sure. Alex elbows me in the arm and I look up to see him motioning me to ask her. I sigh and do it.
“Hey, mom.” I say to the kitchen table. “Was anyone here while I was gone, like in my room or something?” I was completely expecting her to say no and ask why and all that.
She just turns the page of the book she’s reading and goes, "Uh-huh, the electrician."What? Electrician? Electrical! Cameras are electrical, installed by someone who knows what they’re doing when it comes to electronics!
“Why was the electrician in my room?” I ask, trying to sound all casual and whatnot. And I thought I did a good job too, my voice only squeaked a little bit.
“Said he needed to check something about how many appliances were plugged in.” she says as she continues to read her book. “Why?”
“Oh, was just wondering.” I sigh.
“Oh okay, by the way, your doctors appointment’s at four, so come home straight after school.” She says. School? I have to go to school? Like this? This is going to be interesting.
"Okay. Well, I have a lot of homework to do. So I’ll see you later. " I say, as I attempt to drag myself back up the stairs.
“Okay,” she calls up after me, “But don’t even think about going back to sleep, I’ll be in to check on you in a minute.” What is the big deal? Why will you not let me sleep? I just go in my room and close the door. I sit at my desk and look down at my cell phone. Whoa…Five missed calls. All from Allison. I punch in her number and wait for her to pick up.
“Hello?” she says.
“Hey Al, it’s me, what’s up?” I ask.
“Oh, Katie! I’m so glad you called!” she practically yelled." It happened!"
“What? What happened?” I ask, moving over to my bed.
“What you said earlier. About my mom telling me about my dad, it happened. I walked inside, and she was sitting in the couch, and she told me the whole thing.” She says, choking on the words a bit. I take the phone away from my ear for a moment and stare at it, willing for it not to be true.
“It’s real?” I whisper to myself horrified. If that really happened…then. No! I push the thought out of my head, it can’t be! It can’t be real! It just can’t be! It can’t happen! But a voice inside is saying, yes, yes it can.
“Katie? Katie!? Are you there?” I press the phone back to my ear.
“Yeah…sorry.” I whisper.
“What are we going to do?” she asks, just as quiet as I did. At least she understands what this means. She’s not safe. Neither of us are. I don’t care that I’m getting death threats. I’m going to stick with her until the end. I mean it. I’m NOT going to sit back and let her die. I’m going to do whatever I can to help, even if that means I get dragged down along with her. I can’t believe this is happening. It’s one thing to have nightmares. Another to get threatening letters left to you on your second story window, at least it has the slightest chance of being a prank. But proof you’re being watched by cameras and realizing your nightmares are becoming reality? Yeah, it’s not so pleasant.
“I…I don’t know.” I whisper.
“Can you come over? I don’t want to be by myself.” she says, her voice rising. Yeah, I don’t blame her. I don’t exactly want to be by myself either. Even if I do know this is going to happen at school, I don’t exactly want to be in my room anymore.
“I’ll be right over.” I say as I hop down off my bed and slide my feet in my shoes.
“Where are you going?” my mom asked as I attempted to slide out the front door, unnoticed.
“Al’s.”
“I thought you said you were going to do homework?”
“I am, but I realized I forgot to get it from her. It’s at her house.” I lie and slip out the front door and search around the garage for my bike. I breathe heavily as I pedal down the street, fighting the urge to give up and press on down the four blocks to Allison’s house. I throw my bike down on the front porch, ring the bell and half a second later Al whips open the door and pulls me inside her room.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she says flinging her arms around me, nearly knocking me over. “What’s in the bag?” she asks after letting go and letting me breathe.
“Everything.” I say dumping out its contents onto the floor. I pick up the letters and arrange them on the floor along with a notepad and pen to take notes. “We’re going to figure this out.” I say. “We can’t do this at my house, it’s being monitored.”
“You mean…there’s really a camera watching you? You found it?” she asks, staring at the letters with hate and anger.
“No, but my mom said the electrician was in my room while we were at the Biology trip. Seems too strong of a coincidence for there to be a electrician in there right before we get the letter saying we’re being watched by a camera” I say, motioning towards one of the envelopes. Al silently nods in agreement.
“Okay.” I say, writing my thoughts down on paper. “What we need to do is arrange all of this in a time line, and try to make sense of it all. We need to figure out who this creep Ryan is and figure out what’s he’s planning, so we can stop it.” I write a chart on a piece of paper and label it Dream One, Dream Two, Dream Three etc. “Hmm,” I think out loud. “My first dream, what happened? Not much. I was walking to school and felt nervous. Then I woke up.” I say as I write it down on paper.
“Is that when everything started?” she asks. I nod my head and continue.
“Okay, second dream. Walking to school, felt even more nervous than the first one, started feeling scared. Walked onto school grounds and started to sweat. That’s when I woke up.” Al peeks over my shoulder to see what I’m writing.
“Umm…maybe I should take notes. I can’t read a single thing you’re writing.” I roll my eyes and hand over the note pad. She scratches out everything I wrote and re-writes it.
“Okay.” She says, sitting up, pen in hand. “Third dream. What happened?”
“Just about the same thing, except this time I turned the corner onto make out alley to go meet you by your locker.” She nods and motions with her hand for me to go on with the next dream. “Okay, this is when things started to get scary. I turned the corner and that’s when I found you and Ryan. He had a gun and it was pointed at your head.”
“What did he look like?” she asks, leaning up against her bed.
“He wasn’t big or anything. Average. The only things that really stuck out was the tattoo of a snake on his left arm, and the fact that he was balder than Mr. Clean.” I say, scooting over to lean against the bed next to Al.
“Was the tattoo fully covering his arm?”
“No. It wasn’t really big or anything. It was actually smaller, about as big as that pen.” I say, pointing to the pen in Al’s hand. She writes all of this down, and reads it to herself before asking anything else.
“What did he say, in his exact words?”
“Umm…” I say, trying to think back. “He asks you if you believe in God. You say yes, and he shoots you. Then I feel myself falling, and then wake up.” She writes it all down but doesn’t say anything. She gives me the thumbs up sign and I rack my brain for the next dream.“Exact same dream, except this time, after he kills you, he spots me and asks if I believe in God.” I pause for a moment and take in a lung full of air and then continue. “I say…no. He says I made a wise choice, but now that I know who is, he can’t let me go. He shoots me as well.”
She reads it over and then asks, “Knows who he is?” she repeats. “Do you recognize him?”
“No. I don’t think so.” I say, picturing him in my mind. “But there’s just something about him. Something familiar, but I just can’t seem to place it. Maybe it’s just the confidence in his voice.” I say. But I know what it is. It isn’t the confidence in his voice. It’s his face, and most importantly. His breath. I can’t tell her this though. I need to, but I just can’t get myself to do it. Besides, it can’t be him anyway. I already ruled him out. Mr. Stinky has a full head of hair, no tattoo, and his first name isn’t Ryan. It’s Brian.
Hmm… Sounds a lot alike though. Maybe I misheard. Maybe Allison’s mom said Brian, not Ryan. I thought for sure she said Ryan. Can you even miss hear things in dreams? Okay so the only three things that link Mr. Stinky to this just happens to be that they kind of look alike, they have similar sounding names, and they both are in serious need of a breath mint. Not exactly enough to accuse somebody of something like this. Especially something that hasn’t even happened yet.
“Katie! Snap out of it!” Al says, tapping me on the shoulder. “Next dream.”
“Oh, sorry.” I say as I think back to the topic. “Let’s see. This one is when I went all crazy during detention. When I got shot in this one, I could see Alyssa standing behind Ryan. After Ryan kills me, I wake up on the floor. I look around and it’s my judgment. God shows me all the things I’ve done wrong. He shows me how you tried to tell me about him, and all the times I refused to listen to you. He sent me to hell, but I remember I woke up before that.” I say, shuddering at the mere memory of it. “That’s when I woke up on the detention room floor.” She nods and continues writing. She then waves her hand and flips over another sheet of paper.
“Okay, this dream happened when you spent the night. This was my trip to hell. I was standing in a really hot, dry, desert. I remember that I couldn’t close my eyes because my eye lids were gone, also that I was butt naked standing in the middle of nowhere. There were really big open sores all over my skin, so I could barley stand up because it hurt so bad. Then people, like my mom, my dad and you, came up and told me things, like how I was a disappointment to them and stuff. I was crying, but acid was coming out, burning my face. Weird grayish creatures appeared and started climbing up my body, breaking the sores on my skin. That’s when I finally woke up.”
“Wow that one creeps me out.” She says after writing it all down. “How many more are there? I’m running out of paper.”
“Five more.” I say, trying to catch my breath.
“You dreamed that much?” she asks, bewildered.
“Yeah, I didn’t realize I had that many dreams. There’s still the one where I was looking for Mr. Stinky, the one about Alyssa’s funeral, the motel, the phone conversation and the talk you had with your mom.”
“Jeez, slow down. No wonder you’ve been so tired lately. You’ve been more active in your sleep than you have been during the day.” she says. “Okay, let’s get this over with. Next dream.”
“Okay, this one I had decided to go get Mr. Stinky’s help. I ran into his classroom, but there was some lady in there subbing for him. I told her what was going to happen, but she just wanted to send me to the nurses’ office. I leave her classroom in frustration and sprint over to you, but before I could get over there I heard the gun go off. The noise attracts Alyssa’s attention, and she comes over to see what happened. Ryan sees her and kills her. He walks around the corner, sees me, smiles and kills me too.” I say, taking a deep breath when I finish.
“Okay, four to go.” Al says, flipping over another page.
“Ugh.” I moan. “Okay. This one is… Alyssa’s funeral. I’m at the graveyard, I see something going on, I walk over to see what’s happening. People are really sad, so I figure someone died, I walk over and see my mom. I go over to her to see what’s going on, but she won’t look at me. At first I’m just kind of like…fine whatever. I walk over to the front and see Alyssa’s’ picture. My mom leaves, so I get up and follow her, she still won’t talk to me. She leads me over to where my dad and Alex are standing. They too are crying, I put my hand on them, but it just goes right through. I look over and see that it’s my tombstone they’re looking at and I figure I’m dead. That’s when I wake up.” I say, lying back down on the floor, wishing we could hurry up and finish.
“Okay, just a couple more.” She says, sounding just as tired as me.
“This one’s the creepy motel room. I start out in the parking lot of a Motel 6. I walk past all the doors, but my stomach says to keep going until I come up to door 27. I knock, but no one answers, I go in and the door closes behind me. I find a light switch and look around. There’re a bunch of newspaper clippings and stuff about you on this peg board. I’m all freaked out and what not and I’m backing up, but trip and fall back into a dark room. There’s a close line stretched across the room, and they’re holding about 30 pictures of you. They’re all of you walking home, doing stuff at school. I move to get out of there, but he is behind me. He warns me that I should’ve just minded my own business, and then stabs me in the stomach.” I hesitate for a moment and then add, “He had really bad breath.” I don’t think she made the connection, she just continues to scribble down what I said in the notepad.
“This is the dream before we found the first envelope right?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I reply and examine her blue painted ceiling with glow in the dark stars stuck onto it from when she was younger. I used to love to spend the night at her house so I could sleep under them and get to stare up at them all night long. And okay, maybe I still do. But hey, they’re cool looking.
So after I tell her about my last two nightmares, we go over what each ones purpose was, and we end up crashing out on her floor and just talk.
“Al.” I end up saying after a moment of silence. “I think it’s Mr. Stinky.”
“What?” she asks, sitting up a little.
“I think Mr. Stinky is doing all of this.” I say again. “The guy from my nightmares has the same breath, the guy looks a lot like him and his first name sounds a lot like Ryan. Maybe I miss heard it, maybe it was Brian.”
She stays quiet for a moment, lost in thought. She finally says, “I don’t think it’s him. He wouldn’t do something like that to me. He’s not that type of person. That and he’s not bald and doesn’t have a tattoo like you described.” I look over and see her smile for a second. “That and the guy is completely technologically illiterate. I have to help him with anything that relates to a computer. Anything pretty much that was invented after a typewriter. There’s no way he could install cameras. Even if his life depended on it.” She’s right, he just doesn’t seem like the type of person to do something like this.
What would a History teacher have against Allison? What would any teacher have against her? She’s like, the perfect student. Always on time to class, gets straight A’s, never gets into trouble. The complete opposite of me. It’s not him, it can’t be. But then why do I have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that it is? It’s the same nagging feeling I got when I tried to tell myself that these were just dreams. It told me they weren’t, and now look what’s happened!
“Hey, remember that candy I got in my locker? What if that Ryan guy left it there?” She sits up and gasps. “Remember what the card said? Love can be exhausting, let me take your breath away.” She repeats. “What if he plans on strangling me?”
“No, I think it means something else.” I say. “He doesn’t kill you in my dreams by strangling you. He uses a gun. Maybe it means something else.” I say and rack my brain for any clue as to what it might mean.
“Maybe,” she says, sitting back up. “What other weird stuff has happened besides the letters.”
“Phone calls.” I say, staring at Al, waiting for her to tell me what the “Wrong numbers” really were. When she doesn’t answer I ask. “What were those phone calls you were getting? You know, those ‘wrong numbers’ you were so frustrated over. I know they weren’t, they were him weren’t they?” I ask, staring Al down.
She sighs and nods her head. "He kept saying all this really weird stuff, like ‘I’m watching you’ and ‘I can’t wait until we finally meet’, ‘she’s going to pay’. It was freaking me out.
“You could have told me.” I say, fighting to keep my eyes open.
“I know, but if I told anyone, then I’d be admitting this was real. That it wasn’t just the revenge of my best friends’ junk food obsession.” she says while she bites down on her finger nail. Whoa, this must be killing her. She never bites her nails; that’s my thing. I look down at my own nail less stubs. I’d probably be doing the same, but I don’t have any more fingernails left to bite.
Instead I just sigh and place my hands in the pockets of my jacket. “Yeah, I guess.”
We both look up as we hear a knock on the door. Al’s mom enters and informs me that my mom called and that she wants me home. I look up at the black, digital clock sitting on the floor and gasp. I can’t believe it’s already nine. I get up and am forced to hold onto the chair in the corner for support as my legs give off a highly unpleasant tingling sensation. I really need to learn to stop sitting on my legs. After a few moments of wobbling unsteadily around the room a few times, I hug Al good-bye. A horrible thought crosses my mind. What if this will be the last time we hug? What if this happens soon and I never get to say good-bye?
I try to shake the thoughts out of my head. Al must be thinking the same thing as we end up staying this way for a few extra moments longer than normal.
As I was about to walk out the door Al asks her mom something that catches my ear and causes me to stop.
“Mom, who is Ryan?” she asks.
She looks at her for a moment, as if confused. Then replies with an answer neither of us were expecting and Al nearly chokes on the water she was drinking. “Your father.”
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 15)
I can’t believe what my mom made me do! Not only did she find the package of diapers under my bed, she’s actually making me wear them! Of course I tried to fight her on this with pretty much every fiber in my being, but she threatened that if I didn’t put it on in the next five minutes she was going to diaper me herself. I just can’t live with that kind of embarrassment! It’s bad enough I’m a bed wetter, but to actually have to wear old people diapers is just, ugh! These weren’t even the pull on kind! These had side tapes and everything. I felt like I spent ten minutes just staring at it in my hand and another ten trying to figure out how to even put it on. I hadn’t expected these things to be so big! I had pictured cute little baby diapers, not these massive blocks of fluffy material the size of a freaking bath towel. I almost even had to ask my mom for help, until I realized what it was I was going to ask her. No way am I going to ask her for help in putting me in a diaper! I had somehow managed to get it on, but I doubt it will stay on through the night. It’s loose and hanging funny. Oh well, she only said I had to wear it, she didn’t say anything about having to wear it correctly.This is so weird having so much padding against my butt.
It’s a little after midnight and I still can’t sleep. I’ve been tossing and turning for the last hour and a half. What happened? Two hours ago I would have done anything to just crawl under my blankets and sleep until who knows when? Not anymore. I can’t stop thinking and this diaper sure isn’t helping!. I can’t believe Al’s dad is Ryan. And yes, I didn’t hear wrong. It’s Ryan, not Brian. What if I had Mr. Stinky’s name wrong? What if his name is Ryan? If that was the case, that would mean…Mr. Stinky is Allison’s dad! How creepy would THAT be? Hmm…What if he already knows this? Well, okay if he was the one doing this, then he would obviously already know. But we already know he isn’t the one doing this! ARGH! This just takes us back to square one.
So what we need to do is…find out who Allison’s dad is. But where will that get us? We already tried telling the police. So what if we know who the guy is, know where to find him, and know what he looks like. It wouldn’t do us any good. There’s no proof that he’s going to do anything!
I mean, does he even have a motive? Al said something about him saying “She’ll pay for this!” Is he only going to kill her to get back at her mom for leaving? Then what would be the whole thing with killing her because she believes in God? This makes no sense!
I need to sleep; I’ll worry about this tomorrow. No! I can’t What if this happens tomorrow?! But I need to sleep, so I’ll have the energy to do something about it. And besides, what if I dream something important? Maybe an important clue that will solve all of this.Yes! That is what I need to do! Sleep. So I can dream, and figure this whole thing out once and for all.
^-^
Motel 6. The words that greet me as I open my eyes. I look around, facing the 30 brown painted doors. I walk up, not sure what I’m doing, but at the same time, knowing where I need to go. I climb the brown wooden staircase and ascend to the second level. The butterflies in my stomach growing as I walk closer. Closer to door number twenty seven. I stand in front, facing the door, swallow hard, and knock. Nothing. I knock again. I know I heard movement inside. I hear foot steps coming closer. Or is that my heart?
I hear a lock unlatch and the door opens a crack while a woman with straight blond hair with way too much make-up on sticks her head out. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“What do you want?” she asks.
“Oh, I- I’m sorry to disturb y-you.” I stutter, the butterflies picking up even harder. Is this the right room? I glance back at the door. Door number twnety seven. Where’s Ryan? If he’s not here, why am I here? “Is there a…Ryan here?” I ask uncertainly. She gives me a strange look, shakes her head and slams the door. I walk back over to the stairs, the butterflies gradually fluttering away the farther I walk away from the door. Something obviously wants me here; it’s not ready for me to leave.
I draw a quick breath, glance down at the stairs and walk back. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I know I can’t leave. Not yet. I lean against the railing and wait. Not a clue in the world what I’m waiting for though. Twenty minutes pass, and I’m still here. I begin to feel antsy and pace. The fluttering in my stomach going in and out as I walk to and from the door. I hear a faint clicking sound and spin around. The same blond hair lady steps out, spies me and gives me a perplexed stare. I stare back. She sighs and waves me over with her hand, shaking her head, but more as if at herself than at me. The fluttering returns the closer I walk towards the door.
“You…You don’t happen to be…Katie?” she asks doubtfully.
"Yeah…"I squeak, the excitement growing stronger than ever.
“Wait here a second.” She says as she walks back into the room and reappears a few moments later, a white envelope clutched in her hand. “The rooms last occupant left this taped to the door.” She says flashing me the envelope with the familiar red handwriting sprawled across it spelling out my name.
I reach out with a shaky hand for the envelope. I hold it in my trembling hands for a few moments before ripping it open, revealing another letter written in the same red, runny ink.
Thirty hours!
Let’s see what your God can do!
I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. I clench my fists and then jam the letter back in the envelope and realize there’s something else in it. A small key. I stare at it for a moment and then stuff it in my pocket.
“Katie.” I hear a voice call softly to me. I look up, expecting it to be the blond women, but she was no longer there. “Katie.” I whip around, but no one is there.
“Go to the bathroom before bed!” I hear as a falling sensation forces me to hold on to something…fluffy. I jerk my eyes open.
“Katie. Time to get up.” My mom says as she pokes her head in from the hallway. Thirty Hours. That would be…tomorrow afternoon! “How’d the diapers work out?” She asked pulling my blanket back and groaning with disgust. I open my eyes and realize the right side of my pajama leg is wet and stuck to myself. “Take off your pants.” She orders me as I blush and do as she says revealing that the right side of my diaper had completely come undone. “You didn’t even put it on right!”
As soon as she leaves I force myself out of bed, not even caring that I wet myself for what felt like the 20th time. I do my usual morning routines and my not so usual ones. I throw my un-finished homework in my backpack and take off towards school, ignoring my mothers’ insistence to eat something.
I have to get to school, I have to warn Allison. Is it thirty hours starting now, or last night? Well, if it was now, then it would be tomorrow night and the dream takes place during the day. So it would be starting last night, which really would place it tomorrow afternoon.
Well isn’t this just great? This could be my last day to live, and I’m stuck using it to go to school. School is to prepare for your future, but what if I don’t have a future? I wonder if Al would be interested in ditching today. Why can’t we just ditch tomorrow as well? Let’s just not even be there when he’s here. But wouldn’t he just come back some other day? Or to her house perhaps. Plus there was that key. What was that for? Looked like something the school would use. I know it wasn’t a house key, it was really big and yellow; I don’t know many house keys that look like that. But what’s the point in dreaming about a key? Am I supposed to go to the motel and get it? I’d have to ditch school. Hmm… go to school, or scary motel?
Scary motel!
I know, I’ll go get Al, tell her about the dream and sneak off campus with her…whether she wants to or not.
“Hey.” I say when I reach school and join Al by her locker as usual. “What’s wrong?” I quickly notice she isn’t herself, but who would be at a time like this? She shakes her head and slams her locker shut, leaning her head against it, with her hands forming fists besides her. “Nothing.” She mumbles into the row of lockers. I know she’s lying. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. Her eyes are blood shot; she looks half-dead and extremely tired.
She turns her head and stares at me. “Is there any new news? Please tell me it’s good.”
“Huh?” I ask, still taking her in.
“Dreams. Did you have another dream? A clue of some sort?” she asks hopefully. “Something that’s going to have this all figured out?”
“Well…” I say, hesitating a moment. Do I really want to tell her? She doesn’t look up to it, and I’m afraid if I tell her, she’ll have a nervous breakdown or…something. No I’ll tell her later.
“Well.” I say again. “I got a key.”
“A…key?” Al asks, raising her eyebrows at me suspiciously. “That’s it? No address as to where my dad might be? Nothing that could keep him from…You know.” I nod. She moans and slams her locker with her fists, making a loud enough noise to break apart the nearest couple for a quick glance to see what’s happening before they resume their…business. “Well…what was it for, do you have it? Do you know how it can help? Or what it unlocks?” I shake my head before she manages to shoot out any more questions.
“I don’t know.” I say quietly, nearly a whisper. “I had a dream I went back to the Motel 6 to speak with him …I guess. He wasn’t there. There was a new person occupying the room, a lady. She gave me an envelope, with my name on it, and inside there was a key. It looked like something from a business. It was big and yellow with a ton of different looking edges.”
“So what? Does this…key hold the answers we’re looking for?” she snaps in reply. “How is this going to help? We don’t know where to find it, or let alone what it unlocks!” I watch as she falls to the ground and lets her head fall into her knees.
I wish I had something to say to her, something that would help. I wish I could tell her that this would all work out, and that everything’s going to be okay. But I don’t even know that myself. I still need someone to tell me the same. I don’t know if I should stay where I am, or give her a hug. She might push me away though. Telling her about what the letter said sure won’t help; it might even make things worse. I wasn’t expecting him to actually follow through with his threats, let alone so…soon.
“Al…” I whisper softly. She shakes her head in her knees, wipes her eyes with her sleeve and stands up.
“I’m sorry. I’m fine.” She says in a daze. “I’m just…stressed.” I nod sympathetically.
“It’s okay. Anyone in your position would be”
“Ugh. I’m in no shape to handle the lesson today. I’ve got to go find Marissa and ask if she’ll take over.”
“Huh?”
“For the Bible club. Want to come?”
“Sure.” I shrug and follow her around the campus a few times until she leads me over to a tall, skinny, blond haired girl dressed head to toe in pink, including pink glasses. I glance over at the crowd of people surrounding her, dressed about the same. Whoa, how does Al know these people? They don’t really look like her type of crowd. Al’s not one to dress all in black or anything, but she’s certainly not one to dress all in pink either.
“Hey!” She smiles as Al flags her down, and then frowns slightly at the sight of me in my anti-pink clothes. “What’s up?” she asks, directing her attention back to Al.
“Hey. I need a favor from you, would you mind taking over today’s lesson? I’m not feeling very well…not exactly up to it today.”
She drops her plastered smile again. “You’re not sick or anything, are you?” she asks.
“No. I’m fine. There’s just a lot going on, I don’t think I could handle it right now.”
“Okay.” She says. “As long as you’re not sick. You can’t be gone tomorrow, it’s a big day.”
“Huh? What’s tomorrow?” She asks puzzled.
I watch as she stares at Allison in disbelief. “You’re kidding right?” she asks slowly.
“Umm…No. What’s going on tomorrow?”
“Allison! What is wrong with you?” she yelled in what I thought to be an extremely preppy voice. “Tomorrow’s the pep rally!” Okay, she’s confused me already. Allison and pep rallies…not a good mix.
“Look. I’m really not feeling well. Are you going to tell me what’s happening tomorrow or not?” Al snaps again. Apparently this Marissa person has never seen Als’…other side before.
She steps back a moment and eyes her before saying, “The pep rally…you know…that thing you’ve been planning for the last two months. The Believers Project…That thing YOU organized.”
^ - ^
We’re all standing in Amanda’s office trying to help out. Well okay. I’m trying to help out. Marissa is freaking out and pacing the floor muttering, “Oh my God…Oh my God…” occasionally. At least I’m trying to do something. Even if all I had to do was put a wet wash cloth on Als forehead. Amanda is out getting ice in the teachers lounge. Wasn’t the greatest of time to run out of ice.Well okay, here’s what happened. After Marissa said something about that Believers Project or whatever that is….Al went all pale, then green…then fainted. So after I was able to get Marissa to stop screaming, the two of us were able to carry her over here.
Amanda didn’t really believe Marissa’s overly dramatic tale of what happened, so she’s probably going to shoo her out and ask me when she gets back.
I’m curious to know what this project is; does it have anything to do with what’s going to happen? It must have…it caused Al to faint. I guess she must know it’s tomorrow. I suppose I have to come clean about the letter then. The two of us hear a faint moaning sound and rush back over to the bed as Al starts to come back to earth. She slowly opens her eyes, squints, and then blinks a few times.
“Where am I?” she asks groggily.
“The nurse’s office.” Marissa answers.
“Umm…Why? What happened? I was talking to you then… I’m here.” Al says, lifting the wash cloth of her head and eyes curiously before setting it back down.
“Yeah….” I say. “That’s because you fainted.”
She blinks a few more times before answering. “Oh…Well…I guess that explains my massive headache.”
“Yeah…Sorry about that. You surprised us; we didn’t have enough time to catch you before you hit the ground.” I say, grimacing my apology, then lean in closer and whisper into Als ear, “Are you going to tell me what this Believers Project is or am I going to have to force it out of you?” I must have sparked her memory as to why she fainted in the first place as I watched her face start to change colors again.
Marissa sees this and yells at the top of her lungs, “Nurse!” much to everyone’s displeasure.
Amanda comes into sight (finally!) hurrying over with a bag of ice. “What? What’s wrong?” she asks looking at her then to Al. “Oh good. You’re back.” She says, gently placing the bag on Al’s head.
“I think you should go to class now. Thanks for your help.” Amanda says to Marissa, motioning to the door with her arm.
“Fine.” She says, grabbing me by the arm after she moves toward the door and I didn’t follow. “She meant both of us.” She says half dragging me out.
“No. She stays.” Said Amanda.
“What? Why does she get to stay? I’m not leaving if she’s not!”
“Go!” Marissa sends me an evil glare before storming out. I walk back over, brushing my arm off for any pink contamination.
“What happened?” Amanda asks me as soon as I shut the door.
“I don’t know. Marissa said something about some…Believers Project and Al freaked out. She started changing colors then just…fell.” I say, glancing over at Al, who still looked pale. “Are you going to tell me what that is?” She sighs and begins biting on her thumb before taking a deep breath.
“It was a thing I planned for the Bible club during the pep rally. One at a time, they’re supposed to stand up and say their name and “I believe in God.” In front of everyone, if they wanted to. Then anyone could join in.”
“Oh. What’s so bad about that?” Amanda asked.
“Katie, don’t you remember the phone call? I’m supposed to stand up in front of everyone and say I don’t believe in God or else he will kill me! This is it! It’s tomorrow afternoon during the pep rally! I’m the president! I’m supposed to be the first one to start!” Now I understand why Al fainted.
…
It’s already after third period and I still can’t figure it out! What did my dream mean? I know what the thirty hours meant…obviously. But the key? What was the key for? What does it go to? What does it have to do with any of this? And why am I stuck in Algebra when my best friend could be a murder victim tomorrow!
Finally! The bell rings and I’m up faster than anyone and out the door, not even bothering writing down the homework assignment. I’m on my way towards the five mile lunch line, but am suddenly thrown against a wall and held there by…Jaclyn.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy, get off me!” I yell, but am re-slammed against the wall even harder than before.
“What…did…you…do?!” she hisses at me.
“What are you talking about?” I yell, trying to get her hands away from my throat.
“Allison. What did you do to her?!” she yells at me.
“I didn’t do anything!”
“She left in the middle of World History crying!”
“Why do you think I had something to do with that?” I yell, offended at how she could think I was responsible for that. I mean yeah, we fight sometimes, but I haven’t done anything stupid besides that time at Bio camp. “Let me go!”
“I know something’s wrong! I’m not as oblivious as you two think I am!” she says, still full of rage. “There’s something you’re not telling me! What the hell is going on!?”
“Nothing.” I mumble looking past her towards the buildings.
“Look me in the eye and tell me there’s nothing wrong!”
“Look, I don’t want to get any more people involved.” Wrong answer. She slams me even harder against the wall.
“Does this have anything to do with those dreams you were having?” I don’t answer; I just stare at the ground. “Does it?” she yells again.
“Yes.” I mumble.
Y" “You’re going to tell me everything I don’t know. NOW!”
“No, it’s none of your business.” Big mistake. I feel a hand come up and slap me in the face.
"You idiot! How could you think that?! In case you haven’t noticed, she’s my friend too! You’re not the only one who cares about her!"Whoa, how very…Un-Jaclynish. She just admitted she had feelings. I’d bring it up, but she’d probably slap me again.
“Because I care about you! He’s watching us! I can’t drag you into this as well! I can’t put your life on the line because you want to know what’s going on!”
“Who is he?!” she screamed “Is Allison in danger?! Are you in danger?! Who’s watching us?!”
“I can’t tell you!” I yelled, noticing we were beginning to draw the attention of people near by. “Not here.” I whispered. She grabbed me by the neck of my shirt collar, threw me into an empty classroom and slammed the door behind us.
“What…is…going…on!?” she yelled again. “Who is watching us? Why are we in danger? And why is there a rumor going around that Al fainted this morning?”
“Because she did faint. I was with her when it happened.” I said, slipping down into a chair as I feel my energy fly away again.
“Why? What happened?”
“One question at a time. What do you want to know?” I ask, hating myself for putting Jaclyn in danger with us.
“Everything, start from the beginning.”
^ - ^
Two hours, a missed lunch, class, and after being relocated to the bathroom, I finally got the whole story out.
“So let me get this straight…Allison’s dad is going to kill her if she doesn’t get onstage tomorrow and denounce God in front of a crowd of people. He’s also going to kill anyone who tries to get involved, and he’s been watching the two of you with video cameras hooked up in your rooms. Also he’s been sending you death threats at your window and THIS…is what you’ve been dreaming about?”
“Yep. That pretty much covers it.” I say.
“And what exactly is the plan?”
“Well…we don’t exactly have one…yet. All we know is that His name is Ryan, he’s an electrician, and has really bad breath.”
“Oh great…like that’s going to help.” She says sarcastically. “Wake up! This is no time to sleep!”
“Sorry.” I say, forcing my eyes open. “We need to find a…key.”
“A key? What is that going to do?”
“I don’t know…unlock something.”
“Duh. But what? A door, a car, a house?”
“I don’t know.” I mumble, biting down on my bottom lip.
“Argh! What DO you know?”
“Nothing! That’s the problem! All I know is when, but it won’t do us any good if no one believes us! I’ve already called the police and they said they’d put extra security around here, but that’s it.”
“How do we know someone’s actually after her, besides your subconscious nighttime strolls. You’ve gotten a few letters, a couple phone calls. Any solid evidence here?”
“Trust me. Too many things have already happened to prove otherwise. How do you explain certain things I’ve dreamt about coming true? Like I dreamt Allison’s mom was going to tell her about her dad, and then it happened.”
“Fine. I’ll admit that was…creepy, but still.” She said, sliding down to the wet tiled floor underneath the row of sinks. “We need a plan. Maybe we could think of something after school.”
“Ugh. I Can’t. I have a doctor’s appointment after school.” I say, eyeing the dirty wet ground before hesitantly joining Jaclyn on it.
“A doctors appointment?! We might be dead in less then 24 hours! Can’t you get out of it?”
“No” I moan. “My mom doesn’t believe any of this. The only adult we have on our side is Amanda. And we’re lucky we have her.”
We both sit up as we hear foot steps coming closer and yanking open the bathroom door open. Uh-oh.
…
“Back so soon are we Katie?” asks the school director, a balding middle aged man with a large gap between his two front teeth and a nose that looks as if it was broken a few times. “What are we in for this time?” he asks, looking down at the note on his desk. I sigh silently and sink down in the plastic chair in front of his desk, the chair I have become quite accustomed too.
Jaclyn on the other hand was fidgeting nervously in the chair besides me, obviously new to this position. I quickly glance over at her and she nervously glances back, twiddling her thumbs under the desk.
Really, it’s not that big a deal; get a lecture for a couple minutes, maybe a detention. We’ll live… through this anyway.
“Ditching class.” The director reads aloud. “I do not tolerate this kind of behavior. We have a no tolerance policy.” He says, getting up from his desk and walking toward the window. “Now, Katie, I believe you know what’s going to happen.” I nod, attempting to stay awake. “I’m not sure if your friend is up to date or not, but we have a policy here.” He said, stiffening up. “You are lucky right now; I’m going to let you off with just a detention, but next time, next time the punishment will be much more severe.”
“Okay. We’re sorry.” I say a bit too quickly.
“No. I wasn’t talking to you.” He snaps at me. “Jaclyn, is it?” She nods quickly. “Well then, Jaclyn, as I stated before, we have no tolerance policy for skipping class. I expect you to report in at 3:05 for detention. Now go to class, I need to have a word here with Miss. Devo.” She nods, picks up her backpack, and flashes me a worried look before bolting for the door.
“Now, Katie.” He says after rummaging through a drawer full of folders, grabbing one, and setting it on his desk. “You know now what I have to do?”
What is he talking about? Why didn’t he just give me another detention and shoo me away so he could play Minesweeper? “Don’t you remember?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
“No.” I admit, annoyed at having to be in here in the first place.
“Three strikes, Katie. I believe we discussed this last time we met, did we not?” he asks, taking a seat in the leather chair facing me and folding his hands across the desk. Hmm…when was I in here last? About a month ago I think, wow, it’s already been a month? Well, I have been behaving better. But what did we talk about? How am I supposed to know, I don’t even know what I got in trouble for. Strikes…what did he say about strikes? Oh, I remember now, was he talking about me? I thought he was bragging about the baseball team. He said something about three strikes and I’m out. Sounds like baseball to me. I hope he doesn’t give me a detention, my mom’s going to kill me if I miss my doctor’s appointment because I got detention. Maybe if I just play nice, listen through his lecture and keep my mouth shut, he’ll let me off the hook. So what if I skipped, I had a good enough reason.
“I’m really sorry, I’ve just been really stressed lately, please, can you skip the detention, I have a doctor’s appointment after school, and my mom would kill me if I missed it.” I beg, putting on my best pathetic looking face.
“No.” he said after a moment.
“Well, then can I just serve it Monday or something?”
“No.” he repeats. “I think you’re missing the picture.”
“What picture? It’s just a detention. It’ll have the same effect, no matter what day I have it.”
“Katie.” He said, sighing. “You’re not getting a detention.”
“Oh, okay.” I said, relief flowing from my voice.
“You’re getting expelled.”
“WHAT?!” I said, nearly jumping up from my chair. “You’re expelling me because I skipped class?!” He stares at me for a few seconds, as if confused, and then shakes his head.
“You think this is because you skipped class?”
“Well, yeah, I haven’t really done anything for a while, especially nothing that would come close to getting me expelled.”
“Well then.” He says in disbelief, bending down into a drawer and pulling out a brown paper bag and setting it on his desk. “I suppose you have no idea where any of this came from?” He says, placing a few items out from the bag onto the desk. My jaw dropping instantly as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes, half a bottle of Jack Daniels, a magazine, a tiny Ziplock bag with white powder inside(which reminds me of powdered sugar, I have a feeling that’s not it) a straw, and my brass knuckles.
“These” he said motioning with his hand at the items that he placed onto his desk, “Were found in your locker this afternoon during a random drug search. Are you going to tell me these aren’t yours?” he asked, somewhat annoyed. But they aren’t! I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.
Okay, I’ll admit the knuckles were mine, but I’m not going to tell him that. Nothing else is.
“I have already called your mother; she is on her way to remove you from campus. Now I suggest you go clean out your locker and say good-bye to your friends. I have a feeling this is going to be the last time you see them for a very long time.” I don’t believe it! What’s going on?! I was in so much shock I didn’t even notice the school security guards standing behind me. I didn’t care that they practically had to pick me up and drag me away.
“Wait!” I called out. “What’s so bad about a magazine? My mom gets me those so I’ll be more girly or whatever.” I say, thinking it was one of those Seventeen magazines.
“Oh really.” He said doubtfully. “I do not believe your mother would buy you this” he said, lifting the cover towards me so I could catch a glimpse of some naked guy. Oh great…Porn. Didn’t need to see that. I wince as the security guards drag me out, ignoring my desperate pleas that that stuff wasn’t mine. Well…most of it anyway. They told me to sit in a chair while they talked to the principal alone. A minute had past and then two. I notice the secretary a couple feet away from me on the computer.
“So…Mr. Stinkly works part time doesn’t he?” I ask.
“Yes.” She says without looking up.
“Do you know if he has a second job?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?” I ask, starting to get annoyed.
“I’m not at liberty to say, I can’t give out personal information.”
“What am I possibly going to do with it? I was just curious.”
She sighs. “If you must know, he’s an electrician.”
Re: My Life as a Teenage Bed Wetter (ch 16)
Coincidence? I don’t think so, though I still have only 1 doubt remaining; only time will tell though. MORE PLEASE!