The Girl in My Closet
By C. S. Fox
((Author’s note: I started this one a few years ago, and I’ve finally taken the time to go back, re-tool it a little bit and give it a proper ending. Probably the very ending a few people expect, but oh well, hope you enjoy.))
The first time I saw her… I wet the bed. I was waking up from a dream, and there she was and… Maybe it was her fault, maybe it was mine… I don’t know, she scared me. She wet herself too.
“Are you talking to yourself again?”
“… Leave me alone. I’m trying to tell my story.”
“Hahaha your story? Hold on, hold on; I’ll help,” Veronica made a soft coughing noise as she cleared her throat, “One day, a loser was born and many days later… here he is.”
Does she realize she lives in a closet? Can someone who lives in a closet call another person a loser?
“I can hear that…”
Okay, that’s cheating, I wasn’t even talking.
“I can hear that too.”
I heard noises downstairs. “Mom, David’s yelling at himself in his room again.”
Veronica burst out laughing. I slapped my forehead. Whole damn family thought I was crazy.
“Psst, you are.”
Soooo ignoring you.
I got off my bed, refusing to look at Veronica as I left the room. I could hear her snickering still as I slammed the door behind me.
Trying to have a semblance of a normal life is really hard with a girl like Veronica. I guess it depends on your definition of normal. I think mine might be a bit off tilt.
My mother was in the kitchen. She was just about done with dinner. “Playing more video games?” she asked pulling out a casserole from the oven.
“Yah… something like that,” I said taking a seat. I had bought a headset just so I could viably say I had someone to talk too when they asked. I wasn’t about to try and explain Veronica to them.
Dinner was quiet and without incident. My dad made some small talk, my mom talked about her day, and my sister bragged about something she did. They tried to encourage me, but I just made sure my mouth was full the entire time. I didn’t really enjoy being with my family, but it was a respite from my… other company. Veronica didn’t like my family much, and doubted they’d understand her, so she left me alone while they were around and hid whenever they were in my room. It’s because of her I try to keep to myself. They don’t need to know how messed up I am.
I did my dishes and cleaned up after myself. My parents don’t bother me as much when I take care of myself and help out. Probably think I’m in the middle of the angsty teen phase or something. Veronica was waiting in my room once again. Standing in my closet mirror and looking at me with a smirk.
“How’s our family?”
“My family’s fine. You’re not related to them.”
Veronica took a seat on the bed that looked a lot like mine inside the mirror. She’d changed since I was at dinner, wearing a babydoll nightie with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She knew it made me uncomfortable when she dressed like that.
“What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.” she smiled. “Maybe they’re not my family, but we’re connected somehow.”
I flipped on my TV and flopped on my bed. It was not a normal mirror in my closet. I did not see my own reflection, I could only see Veronica sitting there and looking bored. The only time that mirror ever showed me was when my family was in the room.
“Just going to watch TV then?”
I didn’t really have to say my answer. She could generally read my thoughts. If I ignored her, she got the message rather quickly. Although we didn’t completely understand our arrangement, she did have stuff to do in ‘her’ room; even if it was mostly the same as mine.
After another hour or so I flipped off the TV and left the room, thinking on the bathroom and my nightly routine so she wouldn’t bother to ask me as I left. Our mind game seemed to be one way. She could read my thoughts, I couldn’t get hers.
I brushed my teeth, washed my face and came back to strip down into my boxers. I didn’t bother to shut the closet door; actually I haven’t been able too since she showed up that one night. The door’s been stuck. I asked my dad about it once, but he just laughed it off and said he’d check it out later on some weekend when he wasn’t busy. It never seemed to get done.
I heard a few odd noises from the mirror. “What are you doing now?” I asked quietly, not looking her way.
“I’m diapering myself.”
“WHAT?!” I asked spinning around. Veronica was on my bed in the mirror and naked from the waist down. She had her nightie pulled up and was sitting so she could scoot her butt onto a big diaper.
“Wha? Why? What the hell?”
“Uh little privacy you perve?” she frowned.
I turned back around, blushing a bit. “Veronica, what the hell are you doing?”
“It’s simple David, I’m putting a diaper on myself. I wet the bed.”
I grunted and crossed my arms. I was angry because this was my damn room and she was the foreign element. What type of weirdness was she pulling now?
Veronica sighed, hearing my mental complaint. “I’m being sensible. I’ve wet the bed the last few nights. So have you. I’m just not so thick headed that I’m not going to do something about it.”
I couldn’t help turning around again, she already had the thing taped up now. “Where did you find diapers anyway? I thought your room was my room and all that?”
“Well your mom got them for you and put them in the closet. You think she’s not going to notice seven straight days of sheet laundry?”
I frowned. “No, not really. I’ve just thought about how to get rid of you.”
Veronica smiled. “I’ve wondered the same thing about you.”
Grumbling I turned and got into bed. Veronica said some lovey dovey good night stuff just to annoy me, and I flipped her the bird. Tomorrow I’m going to find a way to fix those damn closet doors.
“Try to keep your bed dry!” she laughed.
“Hey! Wake up!”
“Jesus you sleep like a hibernating bear. Why don’t you wake up already?”
A part of me wondered what would happen if I threw my clock at the mirror.
“I can see you wet the bed again.”
That woke me up. I growled and threw the comforter in a big ball at my closet. Freaking great, wet the bed again.
Veronica was sitting on her dry bed and stretching.
“Don’t get angry at me Mr. Grouchy, you’re the one who didn’t wear a diaper to bed.” She lifted her nightie and checked on her wet undergarment. “Although I do share your frustration, I wet last night too.”
“Somehow I know this is your fault,” I said while stripping the bed.
She stuck her tongue out at me. “Yah it’s carnal revenge because I have to suffer for it too…. Are you that stupid?”
I flipped her the bird again.
“Wow, haven’t seen that a lot lately. Hey jerk, can you at least keep your pervert eyes averted for a moment? I want to change.”
“Fine whatever,” I said. I had my bed to work on anyway. I did my best to ignore the sound of diaper tapes and whatever other weirdness she was up to. It didn’t take long to strip the bed, and with everything in a bundle I left it next to my laundry pile.
I took a pair of boxers out of my dresser. “Hey fat-head, I’m changing too,” I said over my shoulder. Personally I didn’t much care if she looked or not. I slid my wet things off, threw them on the sheets, and left the room without another word, heading straight for the shower. I always felt a little dumb putting on clean boxers before taking a shower, but I guess that’s unavoidable with bed wetting.
I showered. I rubbed one out too. Stupid Veronica, the shower is about the only place I have privacy. I tried doing it a few nights ago after I thought she was asleep, that didn’t go well. Chapter one in my future book of manliness is going to be ‘no laughter in the bedroom.’
I came back into my room wearing boxers with a towel on my shoulders. “Changing again fat-head,” I said without looking at the mirror.
“Must you keep saying fat-head? Is that like your adolescent name-du-jour?”
I ignored the fat-head and I changed into some dark jeans and a plain polo. I am usually not one to dress overtly preppy. I’m not really emo either; maybe a little goth in color choice, some punk attitude… I don’t really know, I’m sort of an in between where style is concerned, not one thing or the other, just myself. I’m average height, brown hair and fairly certain I’m mentally unstable, but that’s only a recent development.
“Mentally unstable? Geeze, self loath much?”
I turned toward the mirror, knowing I’d probably regret doing it. “Can you stop reading my mind? It’s kind of rude.”
“Stop broadcasting then. It’s not like I’m trying too, it’s more like I’m in the room and your yelling things without moving your lips.”
I rolled my eyes. Whatever is between us is far too weird to explain.
“You’re wearing short sleeves? Isn’t it like the middle of winter break? What are you, weather deaf?”
“What are you, a Jewish mother?”
Veronica frowned. She was dressed down a little for her usual wear. Today she had on jeans and a pink hoody sweater, with her hair falling loose. She kept her frown, staring at me.
“My jacket’s downstairs, I’m going to get out of here for the day.”
“Bah bye!” she said waving me off. I showed her my back, grabbed the pile of laundry and left the room.
It was Saturday and most of my family was still asleep. My mom might be up, but probably not. I didn’t really want to see anyone. If Veronica was right and my mom really had put diapers in my closet, then knowing Mom, she’d also be trying to find a time to corner me for a ‘what’s wrong?’ chat. She’d probably try to do it in my room too and that’d be the worst. Veronica would never let me live it down.
I started the laundry and left the house walking the mile or two to the Barnes and Noble Book store. We’re lucky enough to have a 24 hour one and I go often. Sadly brick and mortar stores are disappearing with the advent of tablets, but I like to read magazines and get some peace. I had a few pastries and a cup of coffee for breakfast; place is usually dead before eight.
I killed a good three hours there before heading home. My mom and dad were up by the time I got back. Mom politely asked what I’d been up to and I just left a bag of magazines on the counter, not explaining. I went to the basement and moved the laundry along.
Veronica was pretty much exactly where I’d left her. She was laying on my bed in the mirror reading a book. She’d changed since I was gone. She still had her hoody, but she’d lost her jeans and in their place she was wearing just a diaper with her bare legs and knee high pink socks.
“What are you doing now?” I asked, knowing that I didn’t really want to know.
She waved a flippant hand back at me. “I’m lazy.”
It’s amazing. It took one sentence from her to erase all the calm I’d worked on this morning. I took the chair from my desk, brought it over in front of my closet and spun it around, sitting in it backwards.
“Veronica, grab a chair, we need to talk. It’s high time we sorted ‘US’ out.”
Veronica sighed and took her sweet time shutting her book. She got off my bed and took the same chair, dragging it behind her. She sat across from me with her legs open, diaper on display.
“Little more ladylike?”
She crossed one leg over the other, resting her hands on one knee. “Happy jerkface?”
“Was that so hard fat-head?”
We stared at each for a moment, an uneasy silence building and stretching on. She shrugged her shoulders cutely, as if daring me to comment further on her choice of underwear and lack of pants.
“All right, it’s been a week,” I began. “I’ve put up with this long enough. What the hell are you, how are you connected to me, and why shouldn’t I destroy your mirror or board up this closet?”
Veronica looked stunned for a moment. “I’m a girl, I live here, and it’d be seven years bad luck?”
I growled at her. “Are you a figment of my imagination? I mean, you’re only in my mirror… and my sister thinks I’m crazy when I tried to get her to see if she could see someone in there.”
“Then what the hell are you?”
Veronica leaned forward a little, smiling. “I think I’m you.”
I crossed my arms. “Uh huh… now I really must be going crazy.”
“You said it, not me.”
“How come you can make my room look different in there? How come I don’t see you in other mirrors?”
She shrugged her shoulders cutely. “I don’t know. Ooo but I did make a discovery last night!”
She took her hands off her knees and spread her legs again. I quickly stood up and turned around.
“If you discovered what I think you did, I don’t want to know about it.”
“Shut up jerk, just wait for it.”
I folded my arms and tapped a foot, feeling kind of angry. I’m going insane, and helping me along is a complete wierdo… a wierdo who.
My crotch was getting wet.
“What the F@#&!” I yelled looking at the dark spot growing on my jeans. I looked over my shoulder, hoping that Veronica hadn’t noticed. She was sitting with her legs spread still… smiling with a wet diaper.
“Veronica?! What the hell?” I said turning back around.
Veronica gave her diaper a few pats. “Haha! That happened last night too.”
“But… but… you.” I pointed a shaky accusing finger at her padded crotch. “and then me…?”
Veronica crossed her legs again a little slower than before. “It feels kind of weird, but not unpleasant. Anyways, as near as I can figure it’s like Newton’s third law of motion; for every action there is an equal or opposite reaction.”
“What the hell does that mean? Why did I just…” I didn’t even want to verbalize what had just happened. It felt like a violation of my personal control. I shook my finger again. “…because of you?”
“Let me say it in dummy David talk… Pee go out me, pee go out you; comprende?”
I clapped my hands together once and held them in front of my face, burying my nose somewhere in between. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. “Done!” I said getting up and making a push motion with my hands. I kicked over my chair, and started on the button of my pants. This was going to stop.
“I’m done Veronica. I don’t know what you are… but I do know this isn’t going to continue the way it’s going.”
I dropped trow and was quick to kick off the boxers next. I could hear her gasp.
“David! Can you at least…”
“Stuff it fat-head,” I said silencing her. I went for another pair of boxers. I slid those on and grabbed the wet pair and took them to the spot I’d been standing a moment ago. I did my best to soak up the little puddle I’d made. Thank god for wooden floors, Mom had the entire top floor done one summer when we were on vacation.
“You know… if you’d consider wearing diapers…”
“What is it with you and diapers??” I glared at her. If she could truly read my mind, she’d leave me alone before I got my bat. I finished the puddle and kicked my pants and boxers into the corner, walking up to the closet.
“I know your mad David,” she said taking up position behind her chair, looking a little afraid for the first time. “I was only making a suggestion, it’s not something you have to do.”
I took the mirror by its sides and lifted it up. It was a simple piece of furniture on a wrought iron base; probably some ikea crap my mom got back in college. Whatever it was, I did the smartest thing I’d done all week. I picked it up and turned it around so that all I could see was the wood back.
“David? Stop being stupid.”
I stepped back and looked at my handiwork. I could still hear her, just like she was inside the closet, but I couldn’t see her. Out of sight out of mind right?
“How’s that Veronica? I don’t know about you, but the view is ten times better from here.”
“Ignoring me isn’t going to make me go away David.”
I frowned and thought for a moment. Impulsively I grabbed a spiral notebook and scribbled down a little message. I tore it out and taped it up on the wall her mirror was facing. If she was going to look at something, it was going to be a lined paper with my personal feelings for her… It read ‘F#%$ OFF!’
“You have to be the most immature jerk on the face of the…”
I was already at my desk, and in went my iPod ear buds.
With a little extra on the volume, I was free of her for now. I flopped on my mattress and stared up at the ceiling. It’s pretty sad that I had to resort to this just to get some respite from her.
That’s right Veronica, I’m talking about you. Can you hear my thoughts? I’m ignoring you to the best of my abilities.
I guess at that point I passed out for a little bit. The next thing I knew my mom was shaking me awake. She had to pull out one of my ear buds before I could hear her.
“Honey, I thought you were in a comma or something, I was knocking for five minutes.”
“Sorry Mom,” I yawned stretching. “Just fell asleep with my ear phones in.”
“So I gathered,” she said taking a seat on my bed. “I’m sorry to wake you up but, I’ve really wanted to have a little talk for the last few days.”
Awww crap, here it comes. I looked over to the closet, and thankfully could only see the back of the mirror. “I’ve got some laundry that should be done by now… can we… uh talk about this in the laundry room?”
My mom looked at me curiously for a moment, but smiled. “Sure honey, I’ll help you fold it. Doing your linens again?”
She said it in such a patronizing way that we both knew exactly what this was about. I didn’t answer her and just picked up the damp jeans and boxers from earlier and headed out and down the stairs. If we were going to have to talk about this, we were going to do it away from Veroncia’s prying ears.
I opened the dryer and started pulling out sheet laundry as we came in.
“Soooo… everything all right David?” she asked, helping fold the sheets.
“You’ve been kind of distant lately. You haven’t really talked to me or anyone else this past week.”
“Oh… guess it has something to do with these sheets huh?”
That’s half true. “Something like that,” I said a bit softer.
My mom finished folding one of the sheets and gave me a hug, trying to be as motherly as she could. “I’m sorry honey, if there’s anything I can do; you know your father and I are always there for you.”
God she was making me blush. My sister would probably die laughing if she found out about this.
“It’s just a… thing… I’ll grow out of it. I’ll take care of my own laundry, no need to tell anyone okay?”
Mom nodded. “That’s very mature of you. I figured you’d be embarrassed about it so I didn’t say anything. I did leave you… protection. It’s in your closet if you want to save yourself a little laundry.”
So Veronica was right on that.
“Thanks mom, I’ll be okay, really.” I said taking the rest of the laundry. She gave me another hug and let me leave in peace. I knew how she operated and this conversation would hold her off for about another week or two assuming things didn’t get worse. She’d also likely transcribe it to dad. She was worried for me, and while I was glad that she cared, I don’t really think she’d completely understand if I were to really tell her the whole truth of what’s bothering me. ‘Oh, there’s a girl in my mirror, she makes me pee myself.’
The protection was her way of taking a more active role. She’d done something similar last year when she’d caught me fooling around in the basement with my ex-girlfriend. She didn’t say anything, didn’t bother me, she just started leaving condoms in my bathroom under the sink.
“Have your little talk?” the closet asked as I came back into the room with clean linens.
Not even going to dignify her with a response. Just make the bed, get the iPod.
“I can hear your thoughts jerk. Just think on what you’ve been doing the last fifteen minutes and let me know if I’m right or wrong.”
Hmmm… maybe she can only read my thoughts when I’m thinking them? Localized to my room?
“The boy is getting smarter… but still no kinder.”
“Read the sign fat-head,” I called over my shoulder as I started making my bed.