vladvladikoff

*warning* this chapter deals with bullying and mental health issues such as suicide and self harm. I was surrounded. People were laughing at me from all sides. I was stood in my classroom with nothing but a wet pull-up on from the waist down. My stomach was churning. Someone came out of the crowd and pushed me over, causing me to poo. I turned bright red. It was Louise Fletcher. "What's that smell? Eww, poor baby Phoebe has done a poo poo. You're so disgusting. No one wants you here. You should kill yourself. I bet your mum doesn't even love you." At that I woke up, glad it was just a nightmare, but knowing it could play out in real life. I

I woke up and could feel a churning in my stomach. I really needed to poo. Standing up, I noticed how heavy my diaper was. The churning grew more intense. I resigned myself to my fate and decided to unload my bowels. I squatted on my bed and unleashed an explosion. Unwisely, I sat on my bed, allowing the squishy mess to spread uncomfortably in my diaper. I got up and waddled out of my room. Stairs were proving to be tricky in my overloaded diaper that had swelled within an inch of its life, so I sat on my bum and shuffled down them. I heard the tv quietly murmuring, so I made a beeline for the living room. I quietly opened the door and saw

Chapter One I groaned when I woke up to yet another wet bed. It was the sixth time this week and it was Saturday, so that's six nights in a row. Dripping, I walked over to my 'Bedwetting Chart' my mum had made sure was on prime display. I put a big 'W' on today. This was my last week to prove I didn't need diapers at night, but I knew I'd lost the battle. Out of 29 days, there were 25 'W's and 4 'D's. I needed 25 'D's to avoid diapers. To make matters worse, I'd had quite a few close calls during the day time, and one fully fledged wetting while I was awake. I have no idea how I managed to hide it from my mum. I guess she presumed I wore jo