Samantha didn’t want to go out the rest of the day. Whenever she had to use the bathroom it was extremely urgent. Samantha didn’t know what to make of it. Her best guess was that it was some post trauma type thing from last night that was somehow affecting her bladder.
Samantha went to sleep again. She had a nightmare. She was back at the asylum, alone. Behind the bookshelf was a staircase to a lower level. She walked down the stairs she found a door. She opened it. Dr. Sherbakov was hanging from his neck in the middle of the room. He smiled at her. The slammed behind her. Samantha didn’t feel anything, but she looked down. She had wet her pants.
Samantha’s mom woke her up again. It was about noon and her parents didn’t like her sleeping in past ten. She just looked at Samantha. Samantha touched her crotch. She had wet her bed again.
Samantha started crying.
“It’s alright honey.” Her mom sat down on the bed. “You know I can’t get mad at you for something you can’t help.”
Samantha was genuinely glad to hear that.
“Look, it’ll pass. I’m gonna put the plastic sheet on for now. Don’t be embarrassed, at some point this happens to everyone. Go take a shower.”
Samantha got into the shower. Her mom was right, it would pass, but when she said “at some point this happens to everyone” that some point was about five or six. She had heard about people wetting the bed after being in near death situations. She wasn’t too keen on sleeping on a plastic sheet. Samantha had never had bedwetting problems. Her oldest sister did when she was a kid which is why they had the plastic sheet.
Samantha was lying on the couch watching TV. She was feeling bad about herself. Samantha got up to walk to the kitchen for a snack. Three steps in she felt her panties get tighter. The back was stretching. She sprinted to the bathroom. But what could she do? Her panties were completely full. Now she was truly disgusted. She had completely messed her pants. She could feel it in-between her cheeks. She didn’t have any warning.
Samantha cleaned her butt. She kneeled down and cleaned her dirty panties in the toilet. She remembered this is what she had to do when she was in potty training if she pooped her pants.
Something was definitely wrong now. She couldn’t convince herself that there was such a thing as post traumatic pants pooping.
Samantha got out of the bathroom. She didn’t know what the cause of her problems was, but she now suspected it wasn’t trauma. The next option was that she and Kaitlin had been cursed like the files said. They had kind of gone further. Samantha didn’t believe in any supernatural stuff. If she was cursed, then Kaitlin would also have been cursed. It wasn’t a coincidence that when they tipped over the bookshelf that they had both peed their pants. Also on the trip to their school yesterday. If they were cursed then Kaitlin would have wet her bed and messed her pants also.
Samantha called Kaitlin. She didn’t exactly know what to say. Kaitlin picked up.
“Hello?”
“We need to talk.” Said Samantha
“You’re right. I’ll be right over to pick you up.” Kaitlin hung up.