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Refugue in regression


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He called in softly at her.

"Yes, I know it must be terrible over there, with all the fighting, but don't let the western cultures fool you.

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Jael felt a blush warm her cheeks. She was reminded of her accident yesterday on the airplane when she had wet herself. The sympathetic aid worker whom she'd been seated with and had shared a hotel room with the previous night, had been alarmed to watch a dark patch grow across the teenager's clothes, accompanied by a low whining. Fortunately, after the flight had landed, the same woman had helped her find clean clothes to change into.

Jael was excited by the prospect of buying new clothes, she had grown used to hand-me-downs. The excitement helped her take her eyes off the floor and find her voice again.

"I wear jeans and trousers too." she answered, then had a question of her own. "what do Japanese wear?"

Jael frowned as she listened to Jay explaining why he wanted to be called 'Papa'. Her ability to understand English was quite good but she didn't know some of the bigger words. She accepted that was just the way things were and simply nodded. She was happy to use the term 'papa', it sounded like 'Babaan' anyway.

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"Well, most Japanese dress just like Americans do, so they wear jeans, skirts, dresses, or whatever they like in public, but at school, if you don't want to be made fun of for being different, you will have to wear the school uniform which is usually a blouse and skirt with a suit jacket and either a tie or ribbon, or you will have to wear the PE uniform which comes in two styles, shorts and short sleeve shirt or sweatpants and sweatshirt set."

He smiled at her.

"I'm also going to have you wear a diaper under your uniform so if you have an accident at school, only you and your teacher need to know.

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Jael's first impressions of American dress were from TV films, glamorous models from billboards and more recently, military fatigues or aid worker uniforms.

The prospect of getting a school uniform again was exciting for Jael, she hadn't worn one since she was nine. Her excitement faltered at Jay's next suggestion.

"A diaper?" she spluttered. Was he serious?

Aside from asking her to wear a diaper, Jael understood what he was trying to tell her about tolerance and nodded

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From within the confines of the hug, Jael pouted. She didn't want to wear diapers. If someone found out, she was sure she would get teased mercilessly. On the other hand, she hadn't actually made any friends yet, so it wasn't as if she had friends to lose over such an incident.

Maybe Jay was right. Maybe being protected would be better than wetting her clothes all the time or her bed sheets. It was horribly unclean and made her feel unpure.

"okay." she said softly after her moment of reflection. "okay, papa." though it was clear she still had trepidation.

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Jael deliberated for a moment.

The most simple answer was that she had done both. Sometimes she slept by herself because she wanted to be alone or wherever she was had the space to do so. More often recently she had been sharing sleeping space with people and in fact on a cold night she appreciated the extra body heat. Then of course there were some nights when she had night terrors or was feeling otherwise vulnerable and wanted someone to comfort her as she feel asleep. With her bed wetting habit it was sometimes frustrating for her peers trying to balance sympathy with there own desires for an uninterrupted sleep.

"That sounds okay." Jael decided, but she was a little disappointed she wouldn't be getting a room to herself which she could make her own.

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(Just trying to present what I feel the 13 year old character would think)

"uh huh" Jael nodded, expressing her desire to change into some comfortable pajamas.

"Yes please. Thank you." she agreed when Jay offered to undress separately. When he was gone she stripped off her clothes then quickly redressed in a pair of panties and a loose shirt, as Jay had recommended. She folded her discarded clothes and put them away. Then she waited outside the bathroom for Jay to finish.

She smiled at him as he opened the door then quickly nipped inside so she could attempt to pee and then wash herself for prayer.

Feeling fresh, she decided to pray in the kitchen to be out of

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Jael closed her eyes and felt the heavy top futon compress around her body pushing her into the cushiony bottom layer, it's plastic cover crinkled slight beneath the sheet as she made small moments to get herself comfortable.

Sleep always made her a little nervous. It was a time when she had nothing to distract her from her thoughts which sometimes led her darker places than the unlit room, to memories or thoughts which frightened her.

"Jay?" she called out tentatively to the shape where he lay. "can you tell me a story?" she asked him. "anything." it didn't have to be something to entertain, just something to occupy her thoughts as she slept. The matron always used to recitr sura

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(They haven't bought diapers yet, unless Jay bought them pre-emptively because he had been warned she had a wetting problem)

The next morning Jael awoke early. Discomforted my her wet clothes she wriggled out of Jay's bed. This action awoke him and Jael was embrassed to find herself standing before him with her cold wet panties sticking to her.

"sorry." she mumbled. "may I wash?" she asked, hoping he would run the bath and turn on the water heater for her.

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Jay walked back to the bathroom area and peeked into the dressing area to avoid looking at her only to find her standing there in a towel.

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"No" Jael stated matter-of-factly. She was quite capable of taking care of her own hygiene. As she leathered herself with soap however there was a part of her which remised on being a small girl and being bathed by her mother. She felt a pang of longing in her heart. The feeling of loss stayed with her after she had climbed into the warmed soaking tub and she contemplated how much more like an adult than a child she was in some ways.

After her bath she dressed in jeans, a conservative blouse and briefly one of her headscarves as she prayed. Afterwards she tended to her hair while Jay was busy with his own morning ablutions. She dried it throughly, brushed and combed it, finally carefully braiding it in a single long plait.

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Jay smiled and went about his work around the house making breakfast, cleaning up the room they slept in, and finally serving breakfast in the living room.

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Jael added raisins to her oats. She was methodical in the procedure, selecting and dropping the raisins one at a time, achieving a roughly even spread. She responded to Jay's question before she dropped her spoon into the mixture.

" thank you. I think I would look silly in pigtails. Like a little girl." she commented. Of her own experiences, she couldn't recall any Syrian high-schoolers wearing their hair like that. For girls older than herself the

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