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female Lula's embarrassing secret


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What happened? (Part 2)

“What why?!”
“We just can’t. We’re not allowed. No one’s allowed in”
“That’s not… that’s not fair! I’m not on a Covid ward!”
“No one is allowed anywhere, Lula. Sorry. Look, we’re outside now. We’re here. But they won’t let us in”

Lula dropped her phone to her lap and rested her head back on her pillow. Her eyes welled with tears. She had to raise her head again though as her throat ached as it stretched. She lightly coughed into her elbow before focusing back on her screen and her Mum’s face.

“So… what happens then?” she asked worryingly.
“You wait I’m afraid. Get better. Let your throat heal. Don’t leave the ward” her Mum began to well up herself. Tears were leaving streaks down Lula’s cheeks.
“I don’t know how long that’ll be” she cried.
“Stay safe, honey” her Mum said before both her and Lula’s Dad blew kisses to the phone. Lula tried to smile but failed. The call ended. Her throat was dry again from where she had been speaking. She had suffered some lasting damage from smoke inhalation. Luckily she was Covid free, but the nurses were worried her condition would make her vulnerable to pick up further problems. Whilst keeping an eye on her they were trying to reduce actual contact. All the staff were masked up and wearing flimsy plastic aprons. They had kept Lula in the same ward she woke up in a day before. That phone call was the first time she was awake enough to even try and have a full conversation with someone other than her main nurse, Claire.

She had gotten to know Claire quite well. Against her will anyway, she thought. Claire was lucky, or unlucky, enough to be the one clearing up after Lula’s accidents; which she had had a few of since being brought in. She was so physically exhausted that her body was resting through some usually controllable bodily functions. Lula hated it. She felt disgustingly not in control of her own body but knew she had to let her throat heal.

Lula was already sat in a damp puddle she had made earlier. Her parents were allowed to drop off a single bag of homely comforts. Claire was now able to help change Lula into a few pairs of her own pyjamas. She hated how Claire was responsible for cleaning the pee out of her own clothes. She knew it was… her job… but she felt guilty and embarrassed. She hadn’t yet taken advantage of it though. She wanted to like being able to, quite literally, wet the bed whenever she wanted. But she felt bad. She felt awful. She didn’t want to make anyone’s job harder. But damn. She knew if she was here much longer that she could.

Shuffling her backside from side to side, Lula felt the damp sheet tug and pull. There was a quiet rustling as the sheet moved. She sighed. She tingled slightly down there. No. No. Nonononono. N.O. She couldn’t let herself get excitable. She could hardly move out of her bed without getting tired, let alone try and touch herself. And there were people in the beds around her. Just no. But dang, she wanted to.

She had only conversed with the person on her left and right. To her left was an elderly woman maybe in her 70’s. She was hooked up to a pressure thingy? A bleepy machine? She struggled to breath sometimes but Lula couldn’t figure out why. She was a nice lady who meant well but couldn’t carry a conversation for too long before having to use her ventilator to breath. Lula had a ventilator too hung up on her right hand side. She tried not to use it much but it was nice to soothe her throat every now and then. A quick swig of cooling air to fill her throat. A fresh tickle of, what she could only compare to, ice cold water after brushing your teeth. The person on her right was probably in her twenties. A larger girl who was a mouth breather. That annoyed her. She would get up and loaf around in her slippers. She wouldn’t even pick her feet up off the floor. Lula couldn’t really figure out why she was here. She seemed fine on the surface other than maybe being unhealthily… large.

Lula plugged her phone back on charge and left it on the white metal table to her side. She pulled up her cover and hid beneath it to hide the fact she was crying. She stared at her long, pink pyjamas covering her legs. They were noticeably darker around her crotch but it had been a while so she assumed they were starting to dry out naturally. She huffed at turned to her right before dryly coughing. Crying was bad. Crying hurt.

“Are you. Okay? My dear” she heard a faint voice outside the duvet. Like a meerkat Lula peered her head back into the open. It was Dottie on the bed to her left. She was leaning over and had pulled the ventilator away from her mouth. Lula wiped her eyes and sat up.
“Yeah” Lula lied. “Just miss my parents”
“Oh dear. Is that who you were speaking to?”
“Yeah” she admitted, drying her eyes again, grunting to ease her throat.
“It’ll be okay, you know” Dottie said gently.
“What will?” Lula asked. Dottie put her ventilator back on and took a few deep breaths. She pulled it back off and took a few more. Her lips were now wet.
“You. You’ll be okay. I’ve seen a lot of people come through here. I heard them saying what happened to you. Terrible. I can’t begin to…” she took another couple of breaths from her ventilator. “I can’t begin to imagine how… or why… you were in that situation but apparently you helped another girl get out too. You’re kind. You have a big heart. Someone or something is looking out for you”
Does she mean Charlotte? Is Charlotte here? Or Rosie? Oh, Rosie. I hope she’s okay. She must have got out before me. I told her to. She must be.
“What are people saying? When I’m asleep? Was it… bad?” Lula asked She had purposefully avoided any news about the fire. She felt guilty enough as it was but also too tired and had slept through most of her time in the hospital so far.
“I’ve only overheard, my dear, but I don’t mean to pry” Dottie admitted.
“No… no… what do you know? Have they said any names? Rosie? Sakura? Charlotte? T… Tom? I’m not… I didn’t start the… what? Do they think I was involved?”
Her head hurt. She had so many questions. She fumbled for the cup of water on her table. Her throat was drying out. She groaned again.

“Take it easy” Dottie chuckled. “Kids will be kids” she admitted. “Like I said, you have a kind heart and I don’t think you’re capable, if I may say, of causing harm to others. They have said that you were only there momentarily? Apparently to help? Some other people your age have spoken out and said that you, Lula? Right? Were worried for a friend? Hmm. Like I said. Kind” Dottie laid on her back and replaced her ventilator. Not only before giving Lula a big, wrinkled smile, Lula smiled back, her eyes filling up again. At least her eyes didn’t burn anymore. She believed that’s all she was getting from Dottie today. She tired quickly. Her heart melted for Dottie. Her slow, considered words. The honesty in everything she said. Hoe long had she been there? How long had anyone not been able to see her? Lula felt sorry for her. She felt like Dottie was extended family even though she’d only known her for a few days. Dottie had tried to brush her wispy white hair a few times only to fail and give up, sighing. Lula imagined she usually had someone to do it for her. She desperately wanted to help her in the mean time. Not as much however, she was desperate herself to pee suddenly. This must be why she felt so dehydrated all the time. But she was awake. She was aware. This would be the first time so far she would decide to wet the bed. There was no way she would try and get down and find the closest toilet; which, actually, she had no idea where it even was. She was keen to get up and start walking about but was just too… fucking… tired… all the time. She took a long, dry, deep breath before turning and facing the ceiling.

“Thank you” she whimpered, peering back over to Dottie. Lula could make out the old lady clenching her first in support and bobbing it up and down, as if wanting to grab Lula’s own hand tightly. Lula started trying not to cry again.

Overwhelmed with emotion and pain, Lula gave in and decided to stop holding. The bed was already wet. She already needed to be changed. She hid back beneath her covers and watched as a pale yellow puddle grew beneath her, resoaking the sheets and darkening her pyjama bottoms once more. She could feel the material of her underwear cling to her dampened skin as the warm pee cascaded down her crotch. She had already guessed that he mattress was protected. It was a hospital, why wouldn’t it be? She had always assumed that hospital beds were made of that shiny plastic and any liquids just ran off but her pee wasn’t running anywhere. Her backside was drowned in a slowly absorbing pool of her pee. She wiggled slightly to let the pool move around her. Was anyone watching? Did anyone know? Does it make a difference? Had people seen or heard her do it while she slept? Was she actually getting away with this? To an extent it was exhilarating; wetting the bed in a room of people. Lula groaned. She couldn’t hold it back. She began to tingle some more. She burnt with excitement. She spluttered. Her throat was dry. The mood was killed.

After a deflated ten minutes or so, Lula finally considered how weird it actually was. Peeing. Wetting. With no ability to react to the act it became redundant. It wasn’t an effortless task. Cleaning. The mess. Hiding evidence. Timing. Not being caught. Like sure she loved doing it as much as she hated to admit it but having just been able to wet herself and the bed she was laying in, in public, in front of other people, in broad daylight, the act became meaningless? The awkwardness wasn’t there. The ability to actually do it killed the mood.

Am I just dirty? Christ… what else could I do in secret to turn me on? Something less messy? Less time consuming? Less planning?

Lula’s mind raced with thoughts. She reflected back to when this had all started. The infamous day where she had forgotten her house keys and was stuck outside in the rain. That first decision to literally piss her pants. That feeling. The rush. The luck. The opportunity. The fact her crotch was as warm with pee now as it was back then. That sudden high of ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ mixed with ‘this is fucking great!’. A strange and unnatural taboo situation. For a second she was grossed out. The mood quickly passed. She remembered how her bond with Rosie had grown since they realised what they both did. The experiences they had shared. What they had seen each other do. How they had helped each other. Every cloud has a silver… huh, silver… gold? Cloud? Rain? Golden… rain? The fuck…? She shook the thought from her head. She enjoyed the feeling of her own pee and wettings but always pushed the thought of someone else doing it… to? …on? her?... out of her mind. That did gross her out. But why? Why did her limit seem to end there? Why not…? No. You dirty bitch.

The thought of messing had crept back again. She briefly thought about it earlier that morning; knowing she was bed bound for possibly a long time. She, luckily, hadn’t needed to do it yet but what would happen when she did? Press the button and get the closest nurse to help her to a toilet? The thought of the situation filled her with a boiling hot embarrassment. She knew whoever saw to her would clean her up. They had to. It’s their job. But… she’d never done it before. Pee was one thing but… poop? That’s very different. Her curiosity was sparked though. Like her first few experiences trialling wetting. She knew it was wrong and disgusting but she did it anyway? This could be her opportunity to literally do whatever she wanted and get away with it. Her parents would never know. Once the curtains were closed no one else in the room would know. The nurses would know… that would be the killer. But they’ve seen worse… right?

Lula needed a distraction. Being more awake and alert she had been since she arrived, she picked up her phone and stared at the lock screen/ Nothing. Why hadn’t Rosie texted? Nothing from Sakura? Nothing from anybody. Did she dare look on Facebook? But why hasn’t Rosie called? Why hasn’t she said anything? I should… message her? Does she know I’m here? Is she here somewhere? God I need to know.

Lula: “Hey where are you?”
Nothing.
Lula: “What happened?”
Nothing.
Lula: “I’m in the hospital”
Nothing.
Lula: “I’m okay though!” she panickily typed.
Nothing.
Lula: “Please get back to me”
Nothing.

Lula felt angry. Why wasn’t Rosie replying? Why hadn’t she said anything? Lula reluctantly opened Facebook.

‘Local youths burn down beauty spot’
‘Kids commit arson’
‘Teenagers missing after woodland fire’

MISSING?!
Lula clicked on the article and frantically skimmed the text. No names. Fuck. She had no idea who to message. She didn’t want to speak to her parents again as she’d end up crying. Who was there? She’d heard nothing from Sakura either. Were her and Rosie together? They can’t have been. That’s not what she remembered. Her phone shook in her hands. She had started to sweat. Her heart raced. Her throat pulsated with pain.

Lula: “Help”
Nothing.
Lula: “What happened?
Tom: “ (o o o) “

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Hi all,  Sorry I've been inactive for a while. I've been wanting to post more but uni has been busy and I lost interest in talking about myself. So, from now, when I'm free, I'll turn my own

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Ms. @omobecca, you have written another superb chapter. 
I did not have a chance to respond to the previous chapter. It was very realistic and in ways reminded me of my own recovery from very serious injuries. I have no memories of the accident or anything for 10 days, but I did have strange dreams. At the beginning you indicated that Lula was a fictionalized autobiographical story. I very much hope the serious injuries Lula suffered are not fictionalized autobiographies. In other words I very much hope you did not suffer similar injuries.

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A Nightmare Situation

FYI there’s messing in this chapter. Sorry not sorry. Enjoy, hopefully.
Also, in response the above question. No. Nothing like this ever happened to me. Thank you for asking. I do know through a friend though who had a traumatic injury. I’m shamelessly pulling from their experience. They recovered I should add, to ease my guilt. We’re still good friends. But yes, some of what Lula goes through I have also been through. What though? You’ll never know ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The lift doors slid shut. Lula turned to face Rosie. She wasn’t there. Panic set in. She frantically turned around, spinning on her feet. Rosie wasn’t in there with her. Lula patted at the walls of the lift. She could feel a slight vibration in her palms. The lift was definitely moving but she couldn’t tell in which direction. Strangely however, she knew what was coming. There was a loud ding. Both sets of doors opened. Smoke bellowed into the lift from her right and plants fell onto her from the left. Lula instinctively turned away from the smoke and ran left, covering her mouth. Instantly she was overwhelmed by the muggy heat trapped by the oversized leaves. Smoke started to seep through the lift that was just sat in amongst the plants. A shot was loudly fired off in front of her. Lula flinched and ducked. Another shot. This time something flew over her head. Pieces of plant and twig brushed past her. The wooden frame of the lift took an impact and splinters exploded outwards from the black smoke. Lula whimpered and then ran.

Smoke started to block out the sunlight. Day was becoming night. The ground beneath her was getting muddier. Her trainers were starting to get stuck in the thick soil. Her face was hot and layered in sweat. Her fringe was stuck to her forehead. She darted left again hoping the ground would dry out. Looking over her shoulder she saw a wall of smoke. Surely nothing could be following her form behind?

“Lula!” yelled a voice.
Lula tripped to a halt. She fell and faceplanted the floor. Maybe not conveniently so, the ground had hardened and the impact of the solid mud smashed against her chin. She moaned out loud in pain and rolled onto her back with her knees in the air. Scrunching her face up in agony, she peered down her chest and saw a wall of fire approaching her. She scrambled backwards getting her palms and backside dirty.
“Lula!” the same voice called out.
Rosie?
“Rosie!!?” she cried out.
“Rosie!!? Sakura!!? Oh… Rosie!!?”
No response.

Lula pulled herself from the floor and rubbed her hands on her tattered jeans. Her school skirt began to ride down from the force she was rubbing with. The fuck? Her school uniform was ruined. There were holes in her tights. She was now wearing flat shoes that were caped in mud. Her shirt was grass stained and covered in dry mud. Her tie hung loosely from around her neck. She looked up in panic and saw her black school jumper hanging from a leaf. A drooped sleeve had caught alight. The whole sleeve was on fire. Fuck fuck fuck!

Lula turned once again and began to run. The backs of her shoes slapped against her heels as she tried to quicken her pace. Quickly deciding to hop a few steps, Lula pulled her shoes from her feet and threw them to the floor. She could feel every next step on the bottoms of her feet. Every stone, every mound, every root. She could feel the bottoms of her tights dampen and tear. She could feel herself starting to cry but had to time to get upset. Who was screaming her name? Where were they?

“Help!” a distanced voice cried out.
“ROSIE!?” she screamed back, still unaware of where the voice was coming from. She stopped once more and tensed her feet. Wet mud squeezed from between her now exposed toes. She felt the inside of her tights fill slightly with mud. It felt awful and gritty. She seemed to have outrun the fire though. And there was light! Lula paced forwards towards the light between the stems. She tripped out into the open, battered and bruised. She fell onto loose rocks. Lots of them. She clenched her fists and filled her hands with stones. Stones? What? She clambered up and looked out upon the beach in front of her. The sun was setting a deep orange behind the sea. The clouds were a pretty yellow and purple. But then she looked straight up. The sky was disappearing behind an impenetrable, heavy smog. She could feel her back get warmer. She turned and noticed the fire. Her chest hurt from her forced exhale. She ran again.

Her feet ached trying to keep balanced on the stones. She slipped and slid around. She could feel sharp shells pierce her skin. Everything seemed to be getting darker with each inch she ran. The sun continued to set behind a distance that seemed to be getting further away. Another shot was fired. Lula was caught off guard and threw her hands to her ears, slamming her eyes shut. She cried out loud. She could feel her feet get covered with a gentle wave. She cried out again. Another shot. Seagulls squawked above her as they flew away. Another wave. A loud rustle of stones. Many stones moving towards her. She opened her eyes and turned around. A massive wall of beach stones were cascading towards her. Each shattered as they fell. She glared, open eyed, at the impossible feat raging towards her. She had no choice. She ran again. This time she thought faster than before. The pain under her feet was unbearable but she had to run. She closed her eyes and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Tears rolled down her face. She could feel her feet bleeding as she clambered up a pile of stones. She opened her eyes to see she had peaked whatever she had clambered up. She’d reached the top of the hill. She was looking out upon the clearing. She pulled herself up and fell onto the soft grass. An almighty crash echoed behind her as the wave of stones subsided at the hilltop. A few made their way towards her, hitting her back and rolling towards her arms.

Lula hugged the grass and cried into the ground.
“HELP!” the voice was louder this time. Coming from the woods? Lula wiped her face and forced out a string of snot, wiping her ands on her now totally ruined school shirt. Her tie had come off somewhere. She froze. The clearing was full of people. None of them moving. None of them talking. They were all staring at her with a fixed gaze. They were thin, scorched remnants of people. The only sound was her heavy breathing.
“Help” one said.
“Help” said another.
“Help”
“Help”
“Help!”
“Help!”
“HELP”
“HELP”
“HELP!”
“HELP!”
They all began to scream. Lula’s jaw shook with fear. Her hands trembled. Her chest got tight. Her voice cracked as she tried to scream. Without warning they all began to sprint towards her with no build up. They went from standing still to full on spring with one step. Lula wanted to throw up. Her throat contracted and she couldn’t breathe. She grabbed her throat and felt her vision fade. She collapsed to the floor. Her head drooped over the peak of the hill. Through her broken vision she could make out Rosie, dressed in what she was wearing the last time she saw her, a dark patch covering her jeans, running away from her.
“r…Ro…sie” Lula spluttered, reaching a hand out. Lula retreated her hand as she was trampled. It felt as if hundreds of crusty, burnt, torn apart feet were running over her at once. She smell of fire filled her nostrils. She curled up and tried to scream again but couldn’t hear herself over the noise of the figures running over her.

Lula laid there sobbing. Her body ached. Her feet were pulsating. Her throat dry. But the smell had gone. Gone? Where am I? She unfolded her body with a groan and sat up. She was sat on the wood chippings in the middle of a courtyard at school. The smoke had gone. There were no stones and no fire. No angry farmer with a shotgun. Her breathing began to calm. Painfully, Lula pushed herself from the floor. Fuck I’ll get detention looking like this.

*Thud*
*Thud*
*Thud *Thud* *Thud thud thud thud thud thud*
Lula frantically looked up at the windows around the courtyard. Suddenly there was no way out. The courtyard was surrounded by windows. She could only make out one door directly in front of her about twenty meters away. The courtyard isn’t this big?
*Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud*
Hands and bodies were pressing up against the glass in all directions. Black and crimson charred hands. Skin peeling and muscles protruding. Lula covered her  mouth with her hands. They tasted like mud. A window smashed. Then another. And another. Then all of them. A million shards of glass erupted from all directions as if in slow motion. Lula ducked and curled up. It felt like it was raining fire. But the fire was sharp. She could make out louder thuds. Bodies were falling from the windows. At least some were. Those that weren’t falling were voluntarily hurling themselves to the ground. The school corridors were now on fire. Smoke began to seep from the broken windows and into the air. As Lula peered through her hands she could make ot the broken bodies crawling towards her. Snapped arms and legs flailed about as they struggled across the concrete slabs. There was only one way out. The door. Wood chips flicked away as Lula hurled herself forwards, stepping on and jumping over the husks that were coming towards her. She kept running. The door seemed to run away from her. She was struggling for air. Her lungs were running in empty. Her left hand was reached out in front of her trying to grab the door handle. She felt like she was running on a treadmill gaining no ground. She could hear the groans and moans of the bodies behind her, clambering over one another. The sounds of snapping bones and tearing skin.

Her hand pressed against the clean, white door and it swung forwards. She fell inside and slipped on the tiles below.  Regrettably, Lula turned around to close the door but saw the army of bodies flooding towards her. She screamed as the pushed the door forwards and spun the lock. The moment she locked it the barrage of bodies hitting the other side filled the tiny room she was in. Rumbling and tumbling and knocks and bangs. Lula pressed hard against the door hoping it would stay shut. She tried to catch her breath. Sweat fell from her forehead and onto the already dampened floor.

The noise eventually went silent. Lula wiped her face with her sleeve which then went wet through and ruined. Where was she now? She turned and saw a toilet in front of her. That was it. A tiny bathroom stall. The same one she’d use in the changing rooms. So what now?

Pain tickled her whole body. Tiny little pricks pierced every inch of her skin. She shivered and brushed her body and shoulders as if to shoo away flies. Her body started to feel wet. She looked down at her chest to see her school shirt turn a dark red. I’m bleeding? The glass? Blood dripped to the floor. Her skin felt heavy and sticky. The warm liquid travelled down her legs and pooled at her bare and almost broken feet. The cubicle quickly began to fill up. The thick blood was at her ankles then at her knees. Her skirt began to float as it rose up her legs towards her waist. She was panicking again. The door was the only way out. She fumbled for the lock which was now drowned in blood. She found it but struggled to turn it. The blood reached her chest and then her neck. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as it wetted her chin then covered her mouth. The door unlocked. She was flushed forwards as the blood drained from the cubicle. She immediately hit a soft fabric that was soaking up the blood. Everything sloshed around for a moment before Lula realised she was laying over the back seats in a car. Everything was now blood stained though. She was wet through with blood. Only her eyes, forehead, and head were not soaked in red. She sat up and began to shiver. The car began to move and the door bolted shut.

“Home please” she muttered, hugging herself around the belly.
“No… to Rosie. Take me to Rosie!” she demanded. There was silence as the car weaved left and right. The lack of noise was therapeutic. The yellow form the streetlights rushed past on both sides. The sounds of other cars speeding in the other direction.
“Where’s Rosie?” she asked.
No answer.
Who’s even driving? She wished she hadn’t through that. The head of the driver turned a full 180 degrees. She could make out the face grinning behind the peeling, charred skin. Lula cringed and screamed. The car sped up. The lights rushed past even faster. She screamed again. She kicked at the taxi door with all her might. The door swung open and was taken clean off by a lamp post. The driver opened it’s gaping mouth and let out a painful croak. She had no choice. She had to jump. She edged over towards the door and took what she thought would be one last deep breath.

Lula’s body hit the ground and bounced. She rolled for a few seconds before ending up at the roadside. Cumbersome droplets of rain were falling over her. She couldn’t open her eyes. She was in so much pain. She coughed and spluttered and moaned out loud.

Lula eventually tried to open her eyes. She had purposefully laid there for as long as possible. She thought she was roadkill laying hopelessly against the kerb. She felt like she was dying in a puddle and the rain was washing her away. She was soaked now, however. The rain had saturated her blood clotted clothes. She was also freezing. She sat upright in the puddle. Everything ached. She couldn’t stay here. She hugged her belly once more to try and stay warm. She realised she was outside her own house. She gasped in disbelief. The sight of home made her cry again. She sorely stood up and limped towards her front door. A river of blood flowed behind her. She collapsed at the door. Her hands kept slipping of the wet surface. She weakly grabbed the door handle and lifted herself up. It wouldn’t move. Oh… pl… please. Fu… Fuck. Ple… please. Her tears were now as heavy as the rain. She pulled and tugged at the handle but it the door wouldn’t open. She stomped her feet in a strop. This seemed familiar. She’d been here before. Not covered in blood, no, but here. Did she have to play out what happened before? Is that what this was? There was no one around. Maybe… no… definitely. She needed to do it. Maybe everything that had happened over the last year was a dream. Maybe this was real. Maybe she was back at the first time she wet in before her Mum got home. Maybe…

Lula snapped her gaze to the floor as warm pee flowed down her legs. It quickly pattered against the doorstep and around her feet. She let her head fall backwards as the relief took over her. She gave a little pleasurable moan. All the pain seemed to fall from her body as she peed. She tightened her eyes as she shut them. She reached out and grabbed the wall and doorframe either side of her. The pee continued. A constant torrent from her crotch keeping the material of her clothes soaked. Even though she was stood upright, she could feel it pool around her vagina and backside and legs. She tingled with warmth as it was forced out of her. How was this pleasurable? Pins and needles rushed up her body, through her chest, erecting her nipples through her sodden shirt, and into her neck. She let out a gasp as the door opened behind her. She fell through it, losing her grip on the wall. Her arms flailed about as she fell. The entrance to her house disappeared in front of her as she continued to fall. The rush of air brushed against her. Her front door slammed shut.

Lula sat bolt upright. She was breathing heavily. She placed her right hand over her left breast to feel her heartbeat. It was fast. Her ribs ached. She could feel her hair stuck to her head with sweat. The room was silent all bar a faint snore in the far corner. Lula let out a whimper.

All of the green lights were around her again. An ambient light leaked through the door to her left. The sound of the blinds on her right tapping against the wall came into earshot. She slumped back down onto the bed. Her crotch was hot and soaked. It had happened again. She drove both hands under the cover and onto her pyjamas. Yep. She’d wet.

The material drenched her fingers and she held it tightly. Why does this keep happening? I literally can’t push the button now. It’ll wake everyone up. I can’t let anyone sort this out. Fuck sake. The accidents at night were becoming a problem. This was the third night in a row she had woke up from some messed up dream to a wet bed. Was is the stress? Being away from home? A conscious involuntarily decision to wet because she knew she could? She sighed. There was nothing she could, or at least would, do until morning.

Unsure what to do now she went to pick up her phone. She hesitated. She didn’t dare. Not after what she had found out yesterday. Could what Tom had said be true? Rosie was missing? How? How does someone go missing? She was there. With me. I told her to go. She ran away. Away from the fire. The other way. Where did she go? Why would she not go home? Was she with Sakura? Tom said he was with her but they got separated. And I was with Charlotte…

Her head began to ache. All she could do was go back to sleep. But she was awake. Wide awake. Scared for her friends. Wet through from her pee. She felt alone in a room of ill, sleeping people. She patted at her wet crotch again. She gently stroked up the middle of her vagina. It tensed and she shivered. No. Not here. No. N…o…

Lula stroked again and again and again. The material of her pyjamas and underwear had started to creep inside her. She played where she knew she liked it. Her back arched slightly, pulling at the dampened sheets. Her throat clenched as she gasped for air. She fell back onto the bed with a thump. The metal frame beneath her creaked slightly. She paused. But not for long. She slid her hands beneath her clothes and continued. She bit her bottom lip to stop her from making any noise. She bit down harder. Her nose was scrunched and her eyelids tight. She let out an audible moan. She couldn’t help it. This was the first release she had felt for days. A rod of static shot up her body. It felt like little bolts shocked their way outwards to her skin. The hairs on her arms stood on end and the tips of her fingers went fizzy. She stretched out her toes and clenched them back in. Another moan. This time slightly louder and deeper. She pulled the finger from inside her and laid their now exhausted. A ringing started in her ears. She was breathing heavily. The euphoria turned into emotion. Her eyes welled up. Her stomach got sore. Really… sore. She grabbed her belly as it rumbled. Ooh. Ouch.

A stubborn pain hit her abdomen. Her crotch suddenly felt bruised and bloated. Her butt cheeks tensed. Lula then fully tensed. She knew what was coming. Oh shit. Oh fuck. She still didn’t dare press the button. If anyone knew she had wet the bed then they’d change her now. She didn’t want to wake anyone up. She certainly didn’t want anyone around her to know she was wetting the bed at night. The pain in her abdomen tightened. The excitement had awoken her bowels. She had been given help to go to the toilet properly some time yesterday. It was one of the single most embarrassing moments of her life. Well, that and the times the nurses have had to change her in the day. But this was coming and fast.

Lula carried on tensing trying to stop the inevitable. Her backside shrieked in pain as it began to protrude between her cheeks. Just let it happen. It’s coming. What you gonna’ do? Crawl to the toilet? She did know where it was now at least. Fuck Ouch. Fuck this hurts. Lula raised her backside from the bed. The back of her pyjama bottoms hung heavy with pee. She gave in. She relaxed her gut as the thick poop slipped its way from within her. She felt her underwear tighten as it seated itself in them. At one point it was both inside her and in her knickers. She shifted her weight and forcibly pushed to get it over and done with. Eventually it thinned out and what’s done was done. In a puddle of her own pee and knickers full of fresh poop, she was officially at a low point in her life. She as glad she had climaxed before this happened. She desperately wanted to lather up in shower gel and clean herself down. The post masturbation guilt was hitting hard and she had, quite literally, shit the bed. The only positive, she thought, was that it wasn’t a messy one. She sighed and rolled onto her side. The weight of the mess in her knickers drooped against her backside. Reluctantly, Lula closed her eyes and forced herself to go back to sleep.

Edited by omobecca (see edit history)
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Love and Loss

Lula and Claire couldn’t help but giggle every time they saw each other. They had formed more than a professional relationship. Lula would even consider this young woman a friend. Claire had seen all of her ladyhood anyway!

The morning after Lula’s accident, she had caught the attention of Claire at the start of her shift. She had been practising her admittance speech for just over an hour beforehand.
“Claire… I’ve…”
“No shit”
“Claire. Last night I…”
“Fuck. No. Idiot”
“I had an…”
“Uggghhhhh”
Fortunately, Claire could already guess. She made light of the situation saying she had seen much worse in her time. She empathised with Lula and made her feel less embarrassed; but only slightly so.

Claire had helped Lula out of bed behind the privacy of the curtain surrounding her bed. A loose lump hung from Lula’s backside causing her pyjamas to droop. The feeling was uncomfortable yet somewhat secretly sexy in a weird sort of taboo ‘I’ll never admit this to anyone ever’ sort of way. Lula was given two options. Either be helped to hobble to the toilet with a big sheet over her to hopefully hide the annoyingly obvious accident or be taken there in a wheelchair. The first choice could lead to everyone seeing what happened whilst the second would leave everyone none the wiser but she would literally have to sit on it whilst being wheeled off for a clean. Lula sighed and closed her eyes, asking begrudgingly for the chair. Claire responded brightly as if unphased by the choice.

“Come on, Poola” Claire chuckled as Lula awkwardly began to sit down. She was groggy on her feet but standing up was a nice change. It took her a while to acknowledge what Claire had muttered. She turned, mouth open wide, surprised at the level or dry humour this early in the morning. She appreciated the joke. She needed a laugh. She mouthed the word ’bitch’ to Claire. They both chuckled again to themselves.

The solid poop pressed against her backside as she slowly sat down. She had tried to angle her position so that it stayed between her butt cheeks. Luckily it was still mostly solid so it just felt like sitting on a rolled up sock. But she knew it wasn’t. That made it worse.
“Hurry up. I’ve got more bums to wipe” Claire persuaded with an almighty smile.
“Shhhut up” Lula replied, obviously uncomfortable but trying to stay light-hearted.
Claire pulled the hanging curtain over with one strong whip. The metal loops on the railing gently screeched as they moved across the bar. It was like a fabulous entry. The funny nurse and the girl who had shit herself. Dottie waved from behind her morning cup of tea, respectfully nodding. Lula smiled back. She thought she had smiled. She hadn’t seen her own reflection fully in a while. After the night’s sleep she had had she imagined her hair was all matted and was wearing two heavy, tired, black eyes. She could also feel her lips drying which had started to sting.

“Claire…” she started to say.
“Yes?” she replied more seriously than before, sensing the shift in tone.
“I’ve… I’ve been having…  dreams. Bad dreams. Nightmares. Is that… normal?”
“Depends. Everyone dreams, Lula. Some are good and some are bad” Claire replied as she wheeled Lula out of the ward, “Nightmares can happen after a traumatic event, after the loss of a loved one, after something memorable in your life, and the list goes on”
Lula was silent.
“And you, I think it’s safe to say, had quite a traumatic experience before you came here, right?”
“I… don’t really remember much of it? I’ve not even seen the news. I think my friends are missing. But I’m here covered in my own… sssshit” she was hesitant about openly swearing but couldn’t think of what else to say.
“You’re getting better though. Physically. I reckon we could have you walking by the end of today. Your throat has improved. You’re talking more than yesterday, hmm?”

Claire backed into the toilet door and pulled Lula inside, locking it behind her.
“I am… going to have to properly clean you, if you can’t” she admitted with her hands on her hips. Lula knew this. She sighed.
“Let me try?” she asked. Claire stepped back and gestured with her hands. Lula pushed up with her hands. Her elbows wobbled as she rose from the chair. It took some time but she eventually stood up, wobbling on her feet. She pressed against the wall to keep her balance.
“I don’t get it…”
“Get what?”
“I didn’t injure my legs? Surely it was just like… breathing in smoke? Maybe some burns? A fracture maybe? I don’t think I have one… but why is this so hard?”
“You were exhausted. Physically and mentally. Yes, you suffered major smoke inhalation. Your throat and lungs needed time to heal. That’s why you’ve bene out of breath. That’s why normal things take so much energy”
Lula replied with an acknowledging sound. She tensed her cheeks and felt the mass between them squidge. No. This isn’t the time to be like that. Just… let’s get this over with.

With one hand still against the wall, Lula pulled at the waistband of her bottoms. She managed to pull them from her waist and they fell helplessly to her ankles. Claire was now faced with Lula’s stained knickers and the bulging lump nestled between her cheeks.
“Do you want…” she began.
“No!” Lula snapped, eager to do this herself. Claire fell silent again. Lula tugged at the waistband of her knickers. There was no dignified way to do this, she thought, as she tried to let them slump to her ankles also. There was a chance the poop would fall somewhere… anywhere? Just anywhere other than pressed against her ass. After a few minutes of fumbling around she paused, somewhat out of breath. Frustrated and pissed off.
“Can you…?”
“Yep. Sure. Yep” Clare piped up, leaning forwards and gently pulling at the sides of her knickers.
“You’re happy for me to…”
“Yes. Yes. Just… can we do this please” Lula interjected. She could feel heat radiate from her cheeks. She tried to keep her eyes tightly closed. She was certainly glad her nurse was female right now.

Lula shivered as she felt the tiny, frilly edges of her knickers tickle down the inside of her legs. The poop pulled away and fell into the gusset of her underwear. She could feel some residue on her skin but it was gone. She carefully stepped out of her knickers and pyjama bottoms and was stood there, naked from the waist down, with her arms pressed against the wall.
“This is dignifying” Lula murmured.
“I’ve seen worse” Claire admitted, emptying the contents of Lula’s knickers into the toilet. She heard the splash. She winced her face. Glad that’s all over with… now just the…
“This’ll be cold” Claire warned as she placed a wet wipe between Lula’s cheeks. Lula flinched, lifting her left foot from the floor and tensing her backside. She squealed. Claire pulled her army away.
“Pffftttftffttt” Lula sniggered. Claire joined in.
For this short time, Lula had forgotten all about what had happened, had stopped thinking about Rosie, stopped thinking about Tom, about Sakura, about Charlotte, about Beth, about the fire, about her throat. This was the first time she had laughed in a long time. The situation wasn’t even funny. It was the most embarrassed she had ever been in her life. The most vulnerable. The most helpless. But she was laughing as she had her backside wiped clean. After all was done, they turned to face each other and laughed again.
“As asses go, I’ve seen worse” Claire shrugged. Lula shook her head and pouted.

For the rest of that day, every time they saw each other they shared a moment of laughter. Lula’s nerves had shaken away. She was as confident with Claire as she had gotten with Rosie over the course of a year. It’s her job though. Literally… her job.

Claire had been right though. Lula was up and about. She was struggling and stopping a lot, but carefully, on her tensed and curled feet, she was racking up her step count. By that afternoon and a very average portion of cottage pie later, Lula felt accomplished. Focussing on getting around had taken her mind off everything else. She forced herself to keep walking as every time she stopped she saw Rosie in her mind; running away from her surrounded by trees. The last she saw of her friend was the soggy backside of her.

Lula retreated to her bed and slumped down. She wiggled her bare toes and let her feet ache. It was a good ache though compared to being stuck in bed for another day.
“You’re doing very well” Dottie said lightly, slowly opening her eyes from her nap.
“Thanks” Lula agreed. “It’s nice to be up again”

Dottie groaned as she sat up, plumping the edge of her pillow she was resting on. She opened her mouth a few times and took a sip of water from the see through plastic cup on her table.
“Oh, Dear. You’re doing so well”
Lula smiled as she swung her feet off the side of her bed. She opened the drawer to her side and pulled out her hairbrush. She began to gently brush her hair. The sound of knots being forced open cracked between the two of them.
“Oh. Oh” Dottie pondered, “I remember when my Benedict, Benny, my husband, would do that for me” she reminisced, pulling at the straggly ends of her hair. Lula stopped brushing.
“Oh… is he?... Sorry for your…”
“Oh no, no, no, no he’s not dead my dear oh no” she laughed, holding her chest.
“Oh sorry”
“It’s okay you weren’t to know. I’ve been told he’s been waiting downstairs for just over a week now. No bugger will let him up. And I can’t get down to see him. I miss him terribly”
Lula felt a tear form in her eye which she wiped away immediately.
“I… I could… if you want… I could brush your hair?” Lula offered. Dottie’s eyes shone as she looked up at Lula.
“Would you, darling? Oh, it’s been so long” she was holding her hands together in front of her.
“Sure yeah” Lula pressed herself up from her mattress and hobbled the few steps to Dottie’s bed. Dottie had shifted over to allow Lula space to sit next to her.

Dottie’s hair was thin and wispy. The white strands threaded through Lula’s hairbrush. Dottie gently hummed as she felt the brush massage her head. She rested her head back into Lula’s arms.
“What do you do?” Dottie asked quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you do? Study? Work?”
“Oh I’m still in school. Was supposed to be exam year but… you know”
“Shame. I think you’re a smart girl”
Lula blushed.
“Thank you”
“And you care, dear”
Lula stopped brushing. She wasn’t used to compliments. Dottie gently slapped Lula’s knee.
“Did I say stop?” she questioned, opening her right eye and peering up at Lula.
“Sorry” she giggled. Dottie started to hum again.
“Where were they wheeling you off to earlier?” Dottie asked. Lula felt an immediate lump in her chest.  
“Oh to see… how… my… walking was. To check my throat. You know” she lied.
“Hmph” Dottie scoffed, “You’ve been having nightmares, haven’t you?”
Lula paused before she replied.
“I… yes. I’m sorry if I woke you up”
“Once or twice” Dottie admitted, “You have been restless. Twisting and turning, my dear”
“Sorry”
“It’s quite alright. I don’t sleep well much anyway”
Did she hear me… last night? Oh fuck.

Lula felt a frail hand cover her own.
“That’ll be enough, my dear. Thank you” Dottie pulled Lula’s hand to her face and pecked it. Lula’s heart raced with nothing but love for this lady she hardly knew.
“You remind me of my daughter” Dottie admitted.
“Oh?” Lula asked.
“Yes. Frances. Lovely girl. Same hair as you. A heart just as big. Kind. Loyal. Funny. My daughter”
“What does she do now?” Lula asked.
“She’s not with us anymore, my dear”
Lula felt a lump in her throat. Tears welled up again.
“She… was beautiful, like you” Dottie continued, leaning over and pulling a purse from her drawer. She pulled out a slightly faded photograph of a young and pretty girl probably in her mid twenties.
“She went missing. Never found” Dottie sighed.
Missing!? Like… Rosie!?

“My friend, Rosie, is missing” Lula whimpered, looking away to hide the tears.
Dottie squeezed Lula’s knee.
“Don’t give up hope. No one is gone, really, until you know they’re gone” she encouraged.
“My Frances is never gone. She’s always with me”
Lula handed back the picture.
“Thank you” she whimpered again.
Dottie leaned over again and offered Lula a rolled up newspaper.
“Would you like to read, my dear?” she asked, smiling.
Lula had only just realised that Dottie had received a newspaper every morning with her lunch. She would sit reading it front to back every evening then leave it rolled up on her table.
“I don’t think I’ve ever… read a newspaper” she sniffled.
Dottie smiled and pushed it closer to her gently nodding.
“But why?”
“Do you trust me, dear?” Dottie asked.
Lula shrugged, taking the paper. She slipped away from the edge of Dottie’s bed and pulled the cover up to her chest.
“Thank you, dear”

Lula unrolled the paper.
‘Girl named and another found’
Found. FOUND. NAMED? WHO?

Underneath the title was a picture or a burnt and barren woodland. A police tape loosely hung in the foreground of the picture. Lula clambered onto her own bed and skimmed the text.

‘After last week’s terribly tragedy all persons involved have now been accounted for. The body found yesterday is confirmed to be that of 17 year old Bethany McIntyre. A young woman ready to take the next step in life’
Oh… Beth. N…n…no.

Lula cheeks scorched red with tears. Her voice cracked as she tried not to make a sound. Her hands gripped the sides of the newspaper hard. Tear droplets fell and marked blotched the paper. An uncomfortable shiver formed at the base of her neck and vibrated through her body. Lula sobbed.

‘Bethany’s parents have expressed their love for their daughter and that she was popular amongst her friends. She will continue to live on in our hearts and minds. Bethany’s parents have also urged anyone to come forward who may know of what happened on this day. Two of Bethany’s peers are known to be in hospital recovering from injuries sustained on the day’

Charlotte? She in here too? I have to find her!? She’s alive. Thank God.

‘The second person to be named is 16 year old Rosie Harrows who was also present the day the incident took place. Rosie was reported missing after the incident but has now been located. She had been found lost and injured further into the woodland. The assumption was made that she had tried to escape but sustained further injuries after falling into a shallow cave along the hillside. A search team rescued Rosie late last night in a fragile condition in amongst the rocks’

Lula gasped and fought for air. Rosie was alive. She cried out loud.
I should have stayed with her. Why didn’t I stay with her? Oh, Rosie. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.
Lula looked up and around. Dottie was giving a comforting smile and a few people were peering at her from their beds. She was breathing heavily, both out of grief and relief.
I have to…
“I have to see her” she said out loud. She stood up quickly. Her head fizzed and her knees went to jelly. She fell back down. Not now! Come on.
She tried again and hobbled slowly towards the door to the ward. To nurses at the desk outside noticed her and came running.
“No, no you must stay inside, we can’t let anyone out without supervision”
“Supervise me then” Lula said beneath her shallow, teary voice. She felt both nurses hold her arms.
“Let me… go” she ordered, trying to shake them off.
“Covid, Miss. We can’t let you…”
“LET me GO” she ordered again, shaking harder. She had no idea where she was going but knew Rosie was in here somewhere. She’d kick down each door to find her. What Lula hadn’t realised was the nurses were gesturing for help. They may have been calling out too but she was blocking out all sound. Her ears felt blocked. Her eyes fixed in tunnel vision. Her heart thumping away inside her. She had to find Rosie… she had… to…

~

The lift doors slid shut. Lula felt ready this time. She tried to stay calm. She jolted as the lift began to move. It was quicker this time. She fell to her knees as the force of the movement hurled her down. She looked up at Rosie curled up in front of her.
“Rosie”
“ROSIE”
She refused to look up. She was dressed in what she wore the day to go find Sakura. She was crying into her arms folded over her legs. Lula shook her.
“ROSIE! We need to go!” Lula cried out.

The lift slammed to a halt. Lula was thrown up and then back to the floor. She sook her head and looked back up. The lift dinged. The doors were already open. Without looking at Lula, Rosie instantly got to her feet and started sprinting full speed into the trees. The lift dinged again. Then again. The dinging sped up.
“Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding ding ding ding ding ding dingdingdingdingdingding*
Lula flung her hands to her hears, wincing at the piercing sound.
“ROSIE!” she cried out. Her voice was lost in the repeating sound.

Lula scrambled to her feet and ran after Rosie. Suddenly everything was silent. All Lula could hear was the sound of her feet pushing into the dried leaves and undergrowth. It was like all other sounds had been muted. She breathed heavily as she ran. Rosie was gone. Lula skidded to a halt. Leaves flew up around her and spun back to the ground.

“ROSIE!” she cried out. There was no echo. Her voice seemed to float around her and go nowhere.
“ROOSSIIEE!” she tried again. She could feel the inside of her throat shred as she yelled. She grabbed her neck and spluttered. Her neck was hot. Very hot. She gasped for air, collapsing to the floor. She rolled onto her back coughing. She tops of the trees were hidden behind a ceiling of black smoke. Panic set in. A deep orange glow rose up around her. Sound started to return in the form of loud crackling. For a second Lula saw the reflection in her own eyes or flames engulfing her. She screamed out in pain and forced her eyes closed.

Lula slowly opened her eyes. The smell of burning was unbearable. Hot ash was falling slowly to the floor. The ground beneath her was black and charred. Yellow specks and sparks filled the immediate area. Curls of smoke rose from fallen trees. Lula hesitantly sat up. She could feel heaps of fine ash shift around her as she moved. She cried out and scrambled backwards. There as a hand jutting out of the scorched earth. And another? Lula soon realised an abundance of limbs protruding from the ground. Each was peeled and burnt. She covered her mouth with her hands. Her attention was stolen by the flashing blue lights in front of her. She glared up and stood up, wiping down her legs. Spinning blue lights?

“Help! HELP!” she cried out as she limped through the limbs she was trying to ignore.
“HELP!” she tried to cry louder. No sound came from her mouth. A hand grabbed her ankle. She involuntarily vomited in her mouth and fell to the floor. Another hand clamped around her right elbow as she hit the floor. Another pulled at her hair. Another yanked at the waistband of her jeans. She was helpless. She struggled and fought. Two hands exploded from the blackened ground around her head and covered her mouth. Her screaming was subdued. She could taste the burnt skin. The blood. Lula raised a hand as she was dragged under the mud and buried. She could feel the last of the cool air brush against her fingers as they were then pulled under.

The pulling sensation felt stronger. Lula could feel grit and mud scrape against her face as she felt like she was falling. She then hit a hard surface and bounced once. An intense pain shot through her spine as she arched her body in shock. She groaned. She raised her hands but they didn’t reach far. The was covered by a wooden ceiling. She knocked against it in the pitch black. It wouldn’t budge. She knocked harder. Nothing.

Fumbling her hands around her, banging against anything she could feel, she could sense something to her left. Something softer. Something with weight to it.
“You let me die”
Lula froze.
“Rosie?”
“You. Let. Me. Die” the voice croaked. A faint orange glow started to emit from somewhere. Lula could just make out the edges of whatever she was in. A giant, flat wooden box? A… a coffin?

Lula slowly turned her head to the left. It was Beth. It… was… Beth. But not as she knew her. A blackened husk of what her body used to be. What Lula had imagined had happened to her on that day. The skin on her face had gone. The bloody, muscly remnants drooped from the face that was pinned at a ninety-degree angle towards her. The grimacing smile of a skinless jawline. Eyeballs spherical and bloodshot. Her hair badly cut and dirty. The orange glow got brighter as it seemed the coffin was burning from the outside.

“You” Beth’s upper body snapped to Lula’s direction.
“Let” her legs seemed to unlatch as her waist cracked into position.
“Me” an arm flailed over and broke backwards as it scraped against the lid of the coffin.
“DIE” Strangely. Like a spider. Her body seemed to crawl unnaturally towards her. The tiny distance between them suddenly grew as she carried on crawling. Her head bobbing as she struggled to keep it raised. The sound of bare bone hitting the wood. A hollow sounding sound though, bellowing below as she crawled.

Lula snapped from her frozen state and forced her elbows into the wood below her. A sound echoed downwards. She forced her elbow down again and again. Beth’s jaw came loose as the body snarled and growled. Her muscles were dragging away as she sped towards Lula. A strange feeling of motion sickness hit like a wave as the distance between them still seemed to grow despite the speed Beth was crawling. One more bash to the floor. The wood cracked and split open. Lula fell through. Beth’s body reached the hole and peered downwards. A bright flash and an explosion of fire erupted inside the coffin and her body dissolved. Lula felt the warmth of the flame against her face. She continued o fall into the darkness, her arms out above her as if to get one last touch of her friend. The sound of rushing air deafened her. Another painful impact. Lula coughed up blood and groaned in agony as she rolled around on the cold, damp floor.

She could hear crying. Rolling onto her stomach, Lula could see a bright light emitting behind her. She grabbed onto a rock and pulled herself forwards. Ice cold droplets fell onto her battered body. She latched onto another rock and pulled again, dragging her now useless body behind her. She was beyond exhausted and had nothing left to cry up. The bright light hurt her eyes. But someone was there. Her breathing got deeper.

“R… Rosie?” she whimpered.
“Rosie!?” she tried to shout out.
“ROSIE” she cracked, reaching out.

It was Rosie. Sat helplessly against the wall of the cave. The light from the entrance illuminating a small rockpool and the drops falling from the cave ceiling. The drops got heavier. An intense rainfall fell. She saw Rosie shudder. She tried to crawl towards her friend but couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She couldn’t help her friend again. Lula slumped atop he rock she had pulled herself onto and stared at her friend. The light at the entrance to the cave was broken. Someone else was there. The silhouette of a person stood in the entrance. Lula felt deaf again as she couldn’t hear what was being said. There was suddenly a lot of commotion as three people burst into the cave pointing at Rosie. They approached her with caution and eventually hugged her. One of the people cradled Rosie in their arms and carried her out into the light. Before she disappeared, Rosie and Lula’s eyelines crossed. Rosie smiled.

She’d done it. She’d saved her friend. Rosie was safe. Lula cried out in relief. She could feel the heavy rain batter her back as she laid there, alone, sobbing hard. She could feel her body saturate with ice cold rain. Then she got warmer and warmer. Hot and sticky. The rain seemed to reduce and fall only on her… crotch?

Lula opened her eyes. She knew where she was. It was already the morning. She had just finished wetting the bed. Her heart was racing. Her head was sticky with sweat. She was already crying. She had to speak to Rosie. She could feel the massive puddle beneath her as she leant over to grab her phone. Nothing. She repeatedly pressed her button for help.

Claire came running in.
“What’s up? What’s wrong?”
“I need to… I need to go! I need to see Rosie! I need… I need”
People were turning to watch Lula panic.
“Shh. Shh” Claire said calmly, sitting next to Lula and placing hands over her shoulders.
“She is here” Claire admitted. Lula felt her heart drop. She let out a moan and hugged Claire. Che continued to cry.
“And you can go today”
Lula looked up through her bubbly eyes.
“I can!?”
“You’re all good” Claire smiled.
“But… only once I… we… sort this out” she gestured at Lula’s bed. Lula nodded enthusiastically.
“I think the nightmares will stop soon too. Now you know your friend is okay”
“Fucking hope so” Lula muttered into Claire’s shoulder.

Lula let Claire pull her curtain round as they both cleaned up. Lula was shaky but could manage. She thought that the quicker they did this the quicker she’d be taken to Rosie.
“Can I go then? And see her?” she snapped as they remade the bed.
“What? No? No one’s allowed to go between wards. Sorry. I should have…”
“WHAT” Lula started to cry again.
“But she’s okay”
“You said…”
“I didn’t say… that, sorry” Claire groaned.
“I’ll… give you some time? Collect your things. I’ll meet you out at the desk when you’re ready? Your parents are waiting for you outside. They want to see you”
Lula felt her heart drop again. She was really getting out. What had it been? Three? Four days? She had no idea.

Claire slipped between the curtains and Lula was left alone. She didn’t have much with her. Her parents had given a bag of clothes and books to the staff to hand over but she’s not read a single thing; other than Dottie’s newspaper yesterday. Dottie! I need to tell her!

With her bag slumped over her shoulder, Lula pulled the curtain open to see Dottie’s bed empty. There was a single rolled up newspaper on the side table. Where’s she…

Lula picked up the newspaper and unrolled it to see Frances’s picture.

‘The body of Frances Wellington, assumed missing for over forty years, has been found. Upon the rescue of Miss Rosie Harrows yesterday, further investigation of the cave found the remains of the much loved Frances. From today, the case for Miss Wellington will be reopened to finally bring a close to this tragic loss of life that left the Wellington family grieving for far too long’

Franc…Dottie. Oh… Dottie.

Lula noticed a scribble at the bottom of the page. In delicate, cursive writing she read ‘Don’t give up hope’.

She thought that she had nothing left to cry. She was wrong. She clasped the newspaper tightly and hugged it. She waited in the doorway to the ward.
“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, worried.
“I found… Where’s Dottie?” Lula asked, looking over to the empty bed. Claire sighed and looked down. Lula started to shake her head. No. Nonononono. Please no.

“She… passed away this morning. She was finally at peace after reading… that” she pointed with her head towards the newspaper.
“She liked you though. That’s the most life we’ve seen in her over the last few days” Claire admitted, wiping her mouth trying not to cry herself.

The lights started to become a little overwhelming. Lula could see Claire’s mouth moving but nothing was coming out. All she could hear as the echo of her stupid heartbeat in her ears. Split clung to her teeth as she tried to speak but was actually saying nothing. She hugged the newspaper even tighter. Lula shattered into Claire’s arms, weeping loudly. Claire let her emotions get the better of her too. Dottie was her patient also.

~

Lula sniffled a sigh of relief through the snot falling from her nose. She was nestled inside Claire’s arm as they walked through the sliding doors and into the open air. The fresh air. The cut grass. The flowers. Lula’s bottom jaw flustered as she left the hospital. There were her parents.

Still with the newspaper held against her, Lula ran from Clarie’s arms and into those of her Mum and Dad. They both took the weight of their daughter as they reunited. Her head was pushed in between the shoulders of them both. Their embrace felt golden and heavy and ever-lasting. Warmth. Safety. Belonging. Closure. Claire stood and watched, overjoyed for Lula.

“Hey” murmured her Dad. Lula lifted her head.
“What”
“Look…” he said, his eyes red. The lines in his forehead more defined than ever. Both he and Lula’s Mum spread apart. Everything in Lula’s peripheral vision faded. Her parents were just blobs behind the tears in her eyes. Lula felt her body slump restfully. She gagged on her own ugly sob. The most immense wave or relief crashed down on her.

The sun was hot. The pavement leading into the hospital was a bright magnolia. Pretty flowers bordered the path and a few little birds dispersed from the nearby bushes; plump with leaves and a deep green. Rosie was stood right in front of her. A crutch in her right hand supporting her weight. Her face somewhat gaunt but still as rounded and as smiley as ever. Her hair, light brown and curled over her shoulders shone. They stared at each other. They lunged towards each other and hugged.

Edited by omobecca (see edit history)
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On 6/6/2021 at 8:40 PM, omobecca said:

thought, was that it wasn’t a messy one. She sighed and rolled onto her side. The weight of the mess in her knickers drooped against her backside. Reluctantly, Lula closed her eyes and forced herself to go back to sleep.

Wow these are some really intense nightmares. I'm honestly wondering why the hospital hasn't recommended diapers if she is having this much trouble getting to the bathroom?

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