Ishigreensa

"Well, I guess I can try," Tom told her. "Where is she?" He walked up the stairs towards her room to talk to her about how she was feeling, and about what they could do to make her feel a little more at peace. "Rebecca?" he knocked at her door. "I'd like to come in and talk, honey." Rebecca frowned but opened the door. "Am I in trouble, now?" "Why would you be in trouble, sweetheart?" "Because... I don't know." "Well, you aren't listening to your mother, but scolding you sending you to bed wouldn't solve what is going on with you, so no, you're not being corrected. We just need to get at the heart of what is going on here." Rebecca looked at the floor. "Look, we talked about what could happen if you got a little sister, right? We talked about that she might not warm up to you right away, and that she'd need some time to orientate herself, remember?" Rebecca nodded. "But it's been days." "It takes more than a day to fix some things, baby. Come here and sit and talk." Rebecca climbed into his lap. "You know your mom has tried really hard to show you that you matter." Rebecca nodded. "But nothing she does seems to be getting through to you, honey...." He spent a while in her room talking about what has been happening.

"Well, your PE teacher says you've been missing classes with him, so I don't think it will matter if you show up today. He knows I'm going to talk to you." I frowned at the little Valeria. "I don't know what is with you, little girl, but your grades are in trouble, and you don't seem to care lately. Just now, I had to assign your partner you were working with to a different group so they wouldn't get a bad grade. Honestly, you need to tell us what is going on, little lady." "Do you really think you are going to pass middle school with these kinds of antics? You are really falling behind with everything! I just don't see what I can do to make this any easier for you, so if you can just...." Mr. Kean noticed the little lady's movements and facial expressions getting a little sour as the class bell sounded. "See you all tomorrow," he called at everyone else. But with Valeria, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, no you don't. No. We are going to...," but she looked a little confused, well, more so than she should have. Her body was scooting kind of awkwardly and as if there were rust in gears. Her legs were tightened one over the other, and she looked scared. "Look, you are in trouble," Mr. Kean told her. "There is no denying that. But you are not going to sit in detention. That will not help this situation. You are not going to be scolded and punished. That's not going to help either. I just need to come to the ...." Suddenly, her legs moved apart, and he saw what was really causing her mouth to tremble, her eyes to water, and her body to move so rusty-like. He frowned as he watched the water pour off of her chair. Shaking his head, he let her just sit there until it was done. "Valeria? Honey? Come on. We still need to go see the counselor. This is not going to stop that from happening. Understand?"

"Okay," he smiled at her. "I'm trusting you, sweetheart. I'm really worried that people treated you so badly." Larry made sure she knew where the toilet was and where the front desk and the young teen section was before he left her. The last thing he left with her, was the phone number to the church hall phone if something were to happen. "When I pick you up, we'll go get some lunch," he told her. "And see if you need a change of clothes, if that's necessary, so don't be scared if you... have a problem, okay?" He smiled and patted her arm one last time before he left her. He went off not that far, to get to his church. Luckily, it wasn't that far from the library.

Megan's Strange New Life Chapter 1: Moving to a New Pod “Megan! We need to go!” I heard my dad calling at me as I quickly scanned around my empty bedroom, with the missing bed that used to rest against the window, my purple and pink dresser that was at the foot of my bed, and the memories of my friends sprawled out on the floor with me, coloring, chatting, or doing homework. This room had been mine for the last ten years of my life, and now, I was leaving it. A tear fell down my cheek as I bade one last farewell to the shut door. “What’s taking so long?” My dad looked over an oversized box that blocked most of his body from my view, and I was lucky to see his blue eyes and wild thick curly hair poking up over it. “Honey, did you forget something or are you missing something?” he sounded a little concerned for me. “No. I got it all,” I sighed. My bed and dresser, things I’d had since I was like four, were given away to poor neighbors. I honestly had been begging dad to get rid of that dresser for ages now, with its Snow Queen theme in purple and pink. But now it wasn’t there, and I was leaving my baby room behind, I couldn’t help it. The tear lingered on my cheek. “Well, do me a favor and open the door, honey. This box is killing my back!” I nodded, pulled my pink pullover shirt with Stitch on it down, and jumped over to the door, not happily, but just to not delay the time it took. I didn’t want my dad to hurt himself. I breathed heavily as he passed, looking down at my faded blue jeans and where my favorite shirt was already trying to pull itself up again to expose a small part of my stomach. It was probably time to admit that the shirt was getting too small for me. “I know, kiddo,” he smiled with his mouth, but his eyes were misty like mine, and I think he was nearly as sad as I was to leave. Sometimes, you just had to go where life took you though! That’s what he’d always say, especially in a time like this. “You know, baby….” I nodded as he told me the familiar phrase. I knew it was coming. “Cheer up, sweetheart! You’ll have twice the number of friends you’d had before because you still have friends, that with today’s tech, you can even keep in touch, and now, you’ll make new ones, too!” I shook my head. “But I can’t go to Cindy’s slumber parties anymore or hang out with Sharon at the mall.” “You didn’t…,” he started to look at me like I might have pulled the wool over his eyes and just now figured it out. “No, dad. What I mean, was now I’d never get to hang at the mall with the other teens with my friends. You always take things wrong. Sheesh!” But I smiled up at him. He just shook his head, labored to get the box to the van and in the back, and then I was in, and we were pulling out of the drive. Another tear slid down my cheek as I saw the driveway appear from under us, to the front, as we backed out of the drive. A heavy sigh tore at my heart. I remembered, three years ago, my dad had gotten a truck, and my mom, living at the time, glared her green eyes into his icy blue ones, and she asked him: “What do you think we can do with that piece of junk?” “Well, we can haul big things that we need, like when we buy a tree, and …,” but mom had her hands on her hips, and he knew that his truck wouldn’t last. I missed my mom’s green eyes and sunshine caramel light hair. I miss her perfume, and I miss her sing-song voice when she called my name. I was tranced out for a bit. “Megan!” my dad’s voice cut through my daydream so sharply I knew he had been calling my name a few times. “Sorry dad. I was just thinking.” “Thinking?” We were on the road, now, driving through the city towards the big one that would take us far away. The sigh in my throat was nothing to the sigh in my heart. “Yeah, about mom and about when we got this van.” “You remember that? That was like three years ago!” he said back to me sounding a little surprised and a little sad at the same time. He probably picked up on that it was our last memory of doing something outside of the hospital with my mom. I nodded, but he probably couldn’t see me. I didn’t feel like verbalizing though. I was starting to remember my mom’s face again, and I didn’t want what little I could still recall to vanish so quickly. Dad became kind of quiet, too. I really miss mom. I miss my own little bedroom in that little house we had forever and even if the room was infantile, it was mine and it had the memories of my mom in there, when she’d come and check on me at night, when I got scared and she hugged me, and even when I used to wet the bed, and she hugged me and then made it all go away and put me back to sleep. I sighed. “I was happy in that house,” I told my dad. “I loved my room.” “You hated your room,” he reminded me, but I could hear the chuckle in his voice. He knew that he was just egging me on to tell him what I missed. “No. I said it was juvenile and babyish, not that I completely hated it,” I huffed. “I liked that out the window was a tree and then the front road so I could see when my friends were coming to the house….” “Oh?” he had a laugh in his sound as he asked. “You’re sure you didn’t miss the princess dresser?” I frowned. It was the most babyish thing in my room, but then, I remember how mommy and I picked it out together when I was like six years old, they decided that it was time that I had my own bed in my bedroom, and not a toddler thing that was right in their room. “I… I do miss the dresser,” I sighed in sadness. “I miss mommy.” “I know,” he said his voice being a little less mocking now as we turned to the subject of why I really missed the baby things in that room. “But now, it’s time to grow up,” he told me. “I don’t mean about mom. You will miss her sometimes, and sometimes it will be very strong, but that’s okay.” “So, what about growing up?” I asked. “Well, even though you will sorely miss mommy sometimes, what you have to grow up about, is to remember that the dresser and the baby toys you had, are not her. They were kind of special to you because she bought them, but honestly, the most precious thing you should carry with you about her, should be in your heart.” I nodded. Of course, I knew he was right, but that still didn’t make it any easier to throw away the baby blocks I had because there was no room to bring unnecessary things with us in the car. My bed and dresser were both donated to a kid that was poor and needed it more. I hope that kid takes care of that stuff. “So, you are going into the fifth grade…,” dad tried to change the topic a bit. “You’ll be the biggest kid at your school next year.” I giggled. “There are, other fifth graders, daddy.” “There are?” he asked as though to be surprised by the fact. “You know there are,” I said half amused that he thought I wouldn’t catch on to his paternalizing behavior. Over the years, I had learned when he was playing like I knew something more than he did, and when he really was shocked that I knew something, though sometimes, he could still trick me. But me? The only fifth grader? He had to know I’d catch that one! I nearly laughed at myself being bothered that he played like that. Of course he did. It was just one of the silly things he did when he wanted to take my mind in a different direction, and it worked. I forgot, kind of, how much I missed mommy. “So, daddy?” I leaned towards the front seat, and got closer. “So…, you got a new job, right?” “Yes, sweetheart. It pays a little more than the last place, and because I’m going to rent the company trailers, rent will be reduced, too, so we’ll have more money to spend on you.” I smiled. “Okay. But do you know anything about where we are living?” “I do, sweetheart. There will be plenty of space to play, and it will be safer from dangerous people because people don’t typically like to live in a place like that.” “What’s wrong with where we’re living that even crime animals don’t want to live there?” I asked wide eyed. “Well, it’s a small town, so it’s easier to get caught if a crime animal takes something,” daddy said. “And there are less targets to take from because of the smaller number of people.” “Oh,” I looked down. I started to think about a couple of my favorite old, old, shows from when daddy was little a zillion years ago, and wondered if the town would have even twenty people in it. Anne of Green Gables made it feel like there weren’t many more than twenty. Little House on the Prairie also didn’t seem to have that many. Never heard of those shows, right? Well, my mom used to like them, so I watched them, and then I liked them, but I know they are like from a zillion years ago. It’s like I said. “Oh?” he asked as he heard my disappointment. “What’s wrong? You’ll have a lot of space to play and run around!” “Well, if there are less than fifty people in town, how will they have a mall?” “They don’t, sweetheart,” he frowned at me through the mirror. “But there are a few more people than fifty.” “So, there goes hanging out at the mall at all as a teenager.” He chuckled. “Baby, you have like five or six years before you need to worry about that. There’s no way I’d let you go to the mall by yourself before you’re sixteen. You do know that, right?” I frowned. “I guess.” I scooted up to sit up. I loved talking to my dad, but being in the same position too long was uncomfortable, so I sat up a little more, and then I pulled my feet up on the bench style seat and then leaning my back against the side of the van, the very side he was driving from, I got comfortable again. “So, if it’s a small town, does it have a small lake or maybe a mountain to climb?” I asked. “It might,” he said as though he wasn’t sure himself. “But it will also have fresh air and you might even see some wildlife. You never know. It won’t be like San Diego.” “San Diego isn’t that bad,” I crossed my arms. “I like it there.” He sighed and shook his head. “Well, honestly, I don’t.” I frowned wondering why he wouldn’t like it! There were plenty of things to do there, and it was easy to get around town even if your car wasn’t working. There were a lot nice shops and restaurants, and it seemed there were books and computers things everywhere! He liked computers. “We’re going to be on the road for a while,” daddy told me. “Why don’t you dig your crayons out or a book and occupy yourself for a while?” I nodded. I woke up rubbing my eyes. I didn’t remember when the smooth rhythm of the car, the soft music, and the quietness of reading had put me to sleep, but now, we were on the road somewhere way out in the desert-like steppes of Southern California. There were a few trees and bushes here and there, and way up ahead, I could see the hills and mountains looming up before us. It was still rather peaceful in the car, so much so, that it seemed boring. The skies seemed clear with maybe a cloud spotted here or there in the sky. I scooted up some, pushing a bushy curly mass of hair from my face and grabbing daddy’s seat, I spoke through the quietness of the car. The heavy atmosphere seemed to affect how loud my voice was. “Daddy? Where are we?” I asked. “We just left the Apple Valley and Victor Ville area,” he looked at me through the mirror. The shadow of where he always kept the hair off of his chin and under his lip was starting to creep up on him. “Are you hungry? It is getting near lunch time if you want to stop in a little bit.” Relieved that I didn’t have to tell him why I really needed to stop, I nodded, but he kept looking through the mirror at me, as if he couldn’t really tell I was nodding. Maybe he just looked up there so I would know he was paying attention to me, but he couldn’t really see me. I know the mirror is really for him to see the cars behind us. “Yeah, I’m a little hungry,” I said after a few moments. Okay, he was my dad, and I probably didn’t have any real reason that you would call a reason, but I’m just shy about personal things, okay? Get over it. Anyway, we continued to ride along on this stretch of boredom’s-ville road. There were a lot of ups and downs on this stretch of road, as if someone found a place where the earth had been pulled together in a fancy pleated fashion, and they purposefully built a road over that section thinking it might liven up the desert or something! I’ll tell you, it did not! It just made it feel annoying when you thought you could really see something interesting, then you were going up another hill that hid what you were looking at. I squeezed my thighs together wondering when we were going to stop. He mentioned getting lunch in a bit, so it couldn’t be that long, could it? I looked out the window to try to distract myself a little more from the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. “Barstow should be up here in about fifteen or twenty minutes,” my dad smiled back at me through the mirror that I was sure he couldn’t see me from. He had broken into my looking out the window imagining a unicorn running along the side of the road, which meant my mind went right back to the pang in my side and the feeling I had at the pushing pressure inside wanting out. “We’ll get some lunch there.” I leaned up. “That long, dad?” “I’m afraid so, kiddo. Is there something else bothering you?” “No. Nothing.” I quickly sat back being far too embarrassed to say anything else on the matter. My face felt a little bit hot, and I shook with the uncomfortable feeling that he somehow knew of my shame, that I had to get to the restroom. I hope he doesn’t suspect.” I thought back into last year at my desk one day: Back in fourth grade in January or February: We had been reading from our class study book, How To Eat Fried Worms, I think the book was called. I was sitting in my seat, feeling a little uncomfortable, and it was like thirty minutes before lunchtime. I saw people sitting quietly around me, still reading, and the teacher was calling on someone else to read a bit. As we read one, two, or sometime as many as five paragraphs, we discussed what was going on in the story. I was starting to fidget a little bit…. “Megan?” I heard my dad break into my thoughts again. “Are you alright back there? You seem a bit quiet.” “Yeah, I’m okay,” I sighed. I wished he wouldn’t keep interrupting me. He keeps making me have to go worse! I pushed my hands on the front of my pants, and looked out the window for a sign that might tell me how much further I’d have to wait. “Honey, you don’t sound okay,” my dad looked up into the mirror, and though I was sure his eyes couldn’t really see me, it felt like he could see not only my eyes, but right down into my body and into the full bladder that was swishing around inside, battering at the dam that I was trying to reinforce with my thighs tightly pushed against it along with my hands. “Look, if you need something, you should tell baby.” “There’s no bathroom around here,” I suddenly blurted out in frustration and anger that he kept making me think of it, and I was so embarrassed that I had to tell him that I had to go! I didn’t mean it. I was just really having a hard time and didn’t want to do anything like a baby, here. He sighed. “Okay. Well, hold on. Just about another ten minutes, sweetheart.” He didn’t even get mad that I yelled at him. Maybe he knows I had to go really bad? I felt my face get even redder and knew I had to be turning purple. I wanted to crawl into a tiny hole, but even though I felt all the shame of having to tell him I had to go so bad, I couldn’t stop my body fidgeting and my legs rubbing against each other, as if they were trying to massage the feeling away. Frowning, I tried to close my eyes, wanting out of this predicament I somehow got myself into. I wanted dad to forget what he found out. I wanted to just be sitting there quietly, just waiting patiently like the big girl I was supposed to be. This was worse than anything…. But no, not really. Back in Fourth grade, last January or February: “Megan, stand up and read for us, please.” Mrs. Thompson called on me in reading. The clock was still twenty-five minutes until lunch. I was already squirming in my chair. “Um…,” I looked around. I didn’t want to stand up. Everyone might see me squirming. But if I didn’t stand up, then everyone would be watching me for sure! I nodded and stood up…. “There’s the truck stop,” dad interrupted the memory of my worse day since starting school. I felt grateful, but at the same time, annoyed that once again, his interruption brought me back to the present where I was reminded that I was trying to keep my self dry now. It was eleven years old, now. I was over halfway to being an adult. I couldn’t be in this situation! It was so babyish! I looked out the window and saw we still had a very short way to get there, but the truck sign loomed up out of the ground like a savior! I was very happy to see that sign, and mentally scolded my bladder to wait just five more minutes! It wasn’t that bad! Of course, it was bad. My bladder pushed back in increased pressure to let me know that scolding it internally into submission was NOT going to work. The only thing I could do to keep from disgracing myself, was get to the promised bathrooms given by signs under the Truck Stop name, and get there now! We pulled our car easily into a parking area as there were plenty of places to park around. I pushed my knees together and internally scolded my bladder. “Look, just three more minutes, and then you can go,” I promised. “Just three minutes. Please. It’s not going to kill you to wait that long!” My bladder pulsed at me, and I couldn’t tell if it was agreeing to the deal, barking at me because I was scolding it, or if it was warning me that I didn’t have three minutes. I just knew that it wasn’t good to have the swishing pressure hammering at the dams inside. I had to keep my thighs so close together it was hard to take any regular steps, and my hands were pushed up against my pants, trying to add strength to the barricade. My dad had started to just walk, but when he looked back and saw me struggling, he strode his three giant steps towards me, and he bent down. His blue eyes looked into mine. He looked serious but comforting at the same time. “You’re not wet, at all yet, are you?” I shook my head. “I’m going to carry, you honey. It will be faster, and you might make it, okay?” I nodded, my upper teeth pulled across my lower lip momentarily. “Be careful,” I whispered. “If you hold too tight, I might um….” But he put a finger on my lips and gave me a serious look while his eyes were soft and understanding. “Just do your best, baby. I know you don’t want to have this happen. Trust daddy.” I nodded and let him carry me. The jolting of his movement wasn’t helping the strength of my dam, but he did carry me more like I was something rather than someone which meant he kept my legs together which made the dam stay in place though it was weakening. My upper body was nearly up over his left shoulder. “Just another moment,” he whispered as I was jolted along. I hoped I could make it. He finally sat me down just outside the bathrooms for girls. “Honey,” he made me wait one last moment while he lectured me about being safe. “Remember, if you feel scared to come right out even if you are not done, and if you are in there more than five minutes, I’m going to come in on you looking for you, okay?” I nodded pushing my legs and hands against the dam hoping he’d hurry this up. “Okay, then,” and brushing the side of my face with the back of his hand moving some of my bushy caramel light brown hair out of my eyes, he turned me towards the bathroom patting me on the back to send me in. Relief! There were eight stalls in here, and I don’t think any of them were being used. I saw some other women and girls near the sinks, but I ignored them. The closest stall was necessary! I hobbled to it as fast as I could, slammed the partition door hard, and hobbled to the toilet and started to pull at my pants when suddenly I felt a little urine pushing out. I grabbed my pants down as fast as I could getting pee pee on the floor, on the toilet seat, and into the toilet. Nervously, I felt around my jeans. I was afraid. But the butt was dry. I pulled at the front. It was dry. I didn’t see anything noticeable in them, but I could feel a little bit of dampness that was just around the middle and partly down one thigh on the inside of the jeans. My panties were damp and I was sure there was going to be a dried yellow stain where a little bit wet the middle of them. Daddy never checks my clothes anymore, so he won’t know. But that means I have to wear the damp panties and the jeans until they dried out. A small price to pay. No one will know I almost acted like a baby. We were back out in the main area again, and dad took my hand leading me to one of the many restaurants that seemed to be around this giant complex of places for people stopping. There was a motel, a gas station, six restaurants, a little souvenir shop, and even a tiny drug store. It was almost like someone took a mall apart, and then separated each of the stores into separate buildings, and then placed them around this huge parking space. “What about Mexican?” my dad smiled at me with a big toothy grin. I loved the way his eyes got those little creases at the edges on the outside when he smiled, and how his forehead sometime got light lines that seemed to disappear up above his hairline so it looked like they probably went all the way to the top of his head. They were just faint lines though, when he smiled. “Okay,” I said cheerily. I loved Mexican food, especially if it wasn’t just the fast food that we Americans label Mexican like this restaurant wasn’t. We walked through the door, and I could see Mexican themes everywhere from iconic large Sombreros hanging on the wall, to a huge map of Central America in the center of the area where we had to wait to be seated, and some other things that people sometimes didn’t think about. “Daddy? How come that picture shows white people invading Mexico? I though America never went that far south.” “Honey, the Europeans invaded all way from Canada all the way down further south than even Mexico when they first came here. Our white blood doesn’t come from being natives of the area of the United States alone.” “Really?” “Yeah, honey. Didn’t they teach you that in school yet?” “No. We just learned about the gold rush, and some animals, and how the white people kicked the Californian peoples out so they could get the gold here.” “Ah. I forgot. I thought state history and culture was taught in third grade.” “Huh?” I knew what history meant, but I had never heard of culture as being something taught. I thought it was just who you were. Like there was Mexican culture, Chinese culture, and Black culture and those were just things that they did that was different a little bit from what I did. I didn’t know that you had to learn it at school? Or maybe daddy did when he was little but now it’s all over the place. Daddy is like a zillion years old, after all. As we sat down, they brought out a plate of Quesadillas with some spicy sauce in a dish for us, and they gave us little glasses of water, like most good places did. The young waitress handed us a menu, and as she started to walk away, my eyes were drawn over a door where a woman with dark red hair was holding the hand of a girl not too much smaller than me in a jean ripped jacket with cutesy decals of pink and yellow flowers on the sleeves, a pink shirt where the jacket was open and I could see a portion of a unicorn, and her pants were ripped and stained from just above the knee down. It wasn’t just stylish rips like people sometimes buy these days, but it was really worn. Her hair was nearly as bushy as mine, but it was a dirty blond that looked like it might be changing color. “Get your filthy kid and get out of the restaurant,” I heard someone yell at the woman. I felt sorry for the child who was holding her stomach, though and I patted daddy on the arm and nodded over at them. “I think the little kid is hungry,” I told him. She was probably around my age, but I purposefully said little kid to get dad to look. He frowned and walked over where the woman and girl were standing. “Do you know this woman?” the usher asked my dad. “Yeah, they’re with us. You know how little kids are! That’s her favorite jacket and pants, so she insisted on wearing them. I swear, she’s going to wear those jeans until they fall apart!” There was a chuckle and my daddy lifted up the little girl as if she was his child, and the woman walked with them and sat the little girl down next to me. I couldn’t tell while we were sitting if she was really shorter than me or not. The woman smiled at my dad. “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it,” he nodded at the waiters around the room. “We can talk about it later.” I smiled up at my daddy. My daddy was really nice to people sometimes. That’s one of the good things about my daddy. If he thought you were in trouble, he’d help you even if it wasn’t his business. “So, does um…,” Daddy waited for the lady to fill in the little girl’s name for him as he was trying to find out about them. “October, oh, um… Octy,” the woman trembled some. She looked like she was lost in how to do something this sneaky. “Yeah, does Octy like anything special that is Mexican food?” The little girl looked nervous as she peered her eyes through the top of her had that was bent down to the table, and she mumbled. “aysi z gu.” I didn’t hear what she said at all. I know what gibberish I did get was not anything that could be intelligible to even my smart daddy. “Honey, I couldn’t hear you,” my dad whispered to the little girl that I saw getting tears in her eyes, and she shook some. I didn’t know what to do. Would she get more scared if I hugged her? I showed her the menu, and I pointed to the enchiladas I was hoping to get. “Do you like that?” I asked. The girl nodded her head a little bit, but she was still shaking really bad. I frowned and looked back to the woman. Now, I noticed, the woman was looking like she was shaking a bit, too. I wondered what they were scared of, and it sort of made me nervous. I cast my eyes about to see if it looked like someone was looking for someone. I imagined they’d probably be angry and maybe even stomping around, so I was looking for a person with that kind of vibe. My dad put a hand on the woman’s hand, and he whispered up at her. “Tell the little one to just eat quietly, and you, too, and then we can go back to my car together after lunch, and maybe you can tell me how I can help you.” The woman nodded. “My name is David. David Lawrence,” My daddy told her with a stern look like he knew she was in trouble, but I couldn’t tell if daddy thought helping her was a good idea or not. It was the kind of look he gave me when he was fixing a problem that I caused, but tried to pretend just happened, but he didn’t really believe the problem was there for no reason. “I… I’m Vanessa,” the woman nodded. “I…I’ll tell you everything, once we are safe.” My daddy nodded. “Well, I will get you somewhere safe. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got yourself in trouble, and it caused a child to get hurt.” The woman nodded and looked down. “Thank you.” As we sat and ate our lunch, I felt my face blush a little hot because I thought the other kid was sitting a little too close to me, and I definitely smelled something. I was kind of surprised my daddy didn’t smell how bad it was, if I could smell myself. I would probably have to tell him I peed my pants after all. I felt tears in my eyes as I realized that this little girl I didn’t know was going to find out. She had to smell me, though. It was really strong. My daddy reached a hand across the table, and he mouthed at me. “It’s okay, baby. We can talk later.” I nodded. Did he really know and was waiting to get me alone to not make me embarrassed? I was so stupid thinking I could hide that I peed my pants from him. Of course, he knew every time I did something weird. “Your little girl looks a little scared,” the woman said. “Assuming it’s not because of you, maybe we are making her nervous?” My daddy shook his head. “She’s just going through some stuff,” he seemed to try not to tell her about private matters. “She’ll be fine after we talk later.” “I don’t mean to cause trouble, David. I’m sorry I don’t have any money to pay you back for lunch, but we can just disappear when we are done eating.” “No, Vanessa. I promise, it’s not you. Megan is just emotional right now. She’ll be okay.” I could see the woman looking more at me than my dad though in that exchange, it felt like she knew something. Maybe I smelled so bad she knew I wet, too. I shook my head. I had to ignore her stares. But they were hard. I gulped. She knew I had peed my pants. I could tell. She knew. I shivered a little more. I didn’t even want daddy to know! What was I going to do now? She’ll tell him. He already knew. I shivered again. “Your child is really scared,” the woman told my dad. “I really think if you let me talk to her for a moment, just over there by the bathrooms, I can calm her down. She didn’t look nervous until we sat at your table.” My daddy looked at me for a moment. They seemed to watch each other for an eternity. My daddy looked around for a moment. “Don’t worry. The people looking for us don’t know we are here,” the woman told my dad. “We left in the middle of the night a couple of days ago. No one knows where we are. I promise.” My dad sighed and nodded. “Okay. But you stay where I can see my daughter.” The woman nodded and she stood up. “Come on, Megan. I promise, you’ll be okay, and your daddy will be right here watching us. I just don’t want to scare Octy anymore than she already is.” I nodded as I looked up at my dad. “Just be ready,” he mouthed at me so I’d know he didn’t fully trust the woman. I knew what he meant. He taught me how to get away from a big person a couple of years ago. Even a woman doesn’t like her foot stepped on between where the leg meets just under the ankle. And he would be out of his seat if he saw me fighting her. We walked over by the bathrooms, and the woman bent down to my ear. “Look, sweetheart, I told your dad the truth,” the woman got really serious with me as she looked intently in my eyes. “No one knows where Octy and I are, so you don’t have to worry about anyone causing your daddy trouble. You are safe.” I nodded up at her, my lower teeth pulling at my upper lip. I crossed my legs as though hiding something. I didn’t think it could be seen, but still, best not take any chances if she doesn’t know. “Honey, if you gotta use the toilet, that’s fine. You can go. I’ll just go back to the table and tell your dad that the new people at the table made you too nervous to tell him.” I frowned. My dad just took me. What would he think? But the woman thought I had to go. If she figured out I was wet, and I didn’t go now, what would she tell daddy? I shivered. “I mean it, sweetheart,” the lady smiled at me. “You can’t just stand there and pee your pants like a baby—not a big girl like you. Go potty and your daddy will understand, honey.” I looked at her for a good long time, long enough that she put her hand on my shoulder. “Sweetheart, are you already leaking?” she asked me. I shook my head no. I wasn’t going to admit that if she didn’t know I was wet. “Then go to the toilet before I tell your dad that you are peeing in your pants, baby.” I nodded and went into the bathroom. She was forceful, but at least she didn’t know I almost peed my pants. I went to the sink and grabbed some paper towels, wet them, and then went into a cubical to try to pull my pants down and wipe out the panties. I couldn’t get caught wetting my pants! Not at eleven years old! I shook as I tried to wet my panties with the water trying to make them smell less like I peed. I dampened around the middle of my jeans, too, but I couldn’t tell which leg some of it went down earlier because both legs were dry, and there wasn’t a stain. I just patted water on both sides of the inside of the leg parts by the middle. I wet the panties as much as I could without making them wet enough that I was afraid they would get my jeans wet, and then I used toilet paper and patted the panties dry. Do I smell less now? I stood up, and looked between my legs at my inner thighs. I patted some toilet paper there, too, just in case. The toilet paper didn’t come out wet, so I must be okay. I sighed. Finally, I came out of the door just as I saw the severe woman reaching her hand out to push the door open. She squatted down. “Your daddy sent me to check on you. You were in there a while. Are you okay?” I nodded. “Okay, then, let’s go finish eating, sweetie.” We walked back, and I kept looking up at her hoping I didn’t smell bad. We sat and started eating. So if the woman didn’t know I was wet, maybe daddy didn’t know? Maybe he just thought I missed mom again? Maybe he just thought like I did and was worried someone was going to come even if she thought she was safe. Maybe I was worried about nothing. Only I smelled it. Octy didn’t say anything about it to me. But as I sat there, nervously, I started to smell it again. I couldn’t understand it. I thought I got the smell to go away when I wiped it with water. I didn’t smell it when I was talking to the woman, I don’t think. No one gave me any strange looks. Why do I smell it again? A tear rolled down my face from my left eye. It smelled, and once dad was in front of me long enough, when we talked, he was going to know I was bad and acted like a baby. I wasn’t even supposed to do this. I am eleven years old! Please, don’t let everyone at the table know I peed! I looked over at Octy who was still looking down. I knew she was nervous. She was too nervous to say anything, probably. If she smelled me, she couldn’t speak up about it. She barely said a word since she sat with us. The woman, Vanessa, was talking to my daddy. They were more getting to know each other like what music they liked or where they went to school. From the way they talked, it might have looked like two single parents met up on a date and took their kids with them.

Sorry everyone, I tried to put up a new version, but something is missing in the way it was told to the point that the only comment on the story was a paragraph about how bad it was, literature style. There was no hint in how to fix it, because the person just raged on about how it was mediocre and how it was better to watch dried paint on a wall peel. It was that bad. So I guess I'm giving up on this story after all. I'm not saying it is the fault that I needed to have Larry act differently so as not to skirt the site's rules, but that I am just not able to bring back what I had going, so I don't know what to do but to just call it failed attempt. This was after almost three days of having the story up and the only comment was this one, so I have to conclude everyone else was just too nice to say so.

I sighed as it looked like she didn't even pay attention to see if she was with someone, and I had to let a group of three work together so she wouldn't affect that boy's work. While the rest of the class were working, I sat down in an empty seat next to her. "What's going on, Valeria? It seems you are electing not to do anything again today. Honestly, you are failing the class now, and I'm worried about you, little lady. I think when the bell rings, we should have a talk for a few seconds, don't you?" I noticed she smelled worse than ever, but not knowing the cause of it other than she must not have bathed which was concerning, I tried to keep it to business at hand, her not participating in class. She was really stinking though, and I really wondered what kind of parents would send her to school like this!

Larry held little Sarah through the bus ride so no one would bother her, either holding her hand, or a hand resting on her arm, her shoulder, or even her thigh. He didn't trust people, and this little child was just tall enough someone might think they could do things to her if he wasn't there to stop them. Arriving at the library, he walked her out to the library so he could find the bathrooms with her, so she'd know where they were, and then he walked around inside with her until she found the books she was most interested in. He wouldn't want her getting lost. On their way, wandering through the library, he patted her arm. "I'll pick you up in this section," he told her. "Please. This is important. Don't go with anyone you don't know, and if anyone tries to get friendly, make sure you stay where the librarians at the closest kiosk can see you in case you need help. I know a kid your age has heard all the safety tips before, but now more than ever, you need to be careful because you're not home, and I have no idea what your fosters think throwing you out on the street or making life so hard for you that you thought running away was better." He patted her back. "Okay, I'll try to treat you like a big girl. I am little scared to leave you, but you know, you got this far, and hopefully you know how to stay safe until I come back for you." And he reluctantly walked away giving this all to God's hands, now.

This may have actually changed in the recent years. When I was in school, when you typed a period to end a sentence, it was two spaces and if used to abbreviate, only, then it was 1 space as well as with a comma. A semicolon was always a single space because technically, you normally used a conjuntion like however which means it really was just one sentence (two made into one like when you use and between sentences. You used to need a comma before and if it was separating sentences but not if separating two things... if it became a list, three or more, then you had to have a comma. However, the comma rule was changing while I was in Junior high, high and into college, so that one was not really nailed down, however, people rarely marked it wrong if you included the comma. A colon would depend on the purpose. When following a list, normally one space because it was connected to he list. When setting off a topic of subjects, it was put on its own line. So, yeah, punctuation over the years has actually changed, and I still use two spaces when I end sentences, and I'm not going to change. I've tried, but the one just makes it look too blocky and chunky to me, where as two, and I can clearly see the sentences are two different parts of the same thought.

Do you have your old rewrite of my Yukari story with Mrs. Brown, and Frank, and the bratty high school girl that mistreated her encouraged by the way the mom did, and they had a boy younger than Yukari who liked her and they became pretty good friends?

Ralph saw the little girl he was worried about walk past him and to her favorite spot. Normally, he wouldn't care that she sat there, well, at least a while ago, he didn't, but recently, she was doing less work and missing more class. As she passed, he thought she smelled a little bit, too, but that wasn't really something he could talk to her about in front of the class. As I went on about the lesson, focused on the Cuban Missile Crisis and the events that led to that development, I noticed that Valeria wasn't paying attention, and probably hadn't copied the last ten minutes of notes into her notebook. I sighed and shook my head. That little girl was going to have to change something if she expected to pass this year. I'd have to talk to her. We were now thirty minutes into the class, and everyone found pairs to work with, and they were doing a mock scenario where they were supposed to come up with an ultimatum that the Russians could take seriously. The effect was that we wanted them to turn their ships around, and if they didn't... and the students were to come up with 3 to 5 things they think the USA could impose on them without crossing boarders and starting an invasion of any kind. I looked to see if Valeria was doing the assignment with anyone.

It looks like some people liked the story enough to ask about it. And the Admin that thought it was questionable seems to be okay with the story overall, but has explained the issues enough, that I think I will just rewrite how Larry is betrayed so he's a little more hands off in his creepiness. I'm afraid if I write it as I have Larry going forward, it will just full circle back to why it was taken down the first time, so let me rethink how to do Larry, and I'll try to bring the story back. I enjoyed writing it, soI don't think I want to give up on the idea. Just change Larry enough that he won't violate or cause a blurred line to cause concern for those that might worry about his real intentions, which is... to gaslight, brainwash, and control both Megan and her mother. I might also be able to do a better job with October's situation this time around too, so I can double down on that vibe that as bad as Larry was, he was actually helping her? Thank you both for your support, and thank you, SpookChicken for letting us know what concerns you had and what I can do to make the story a little less sensitive to the difficulty of writing a story like this.

Thank you for spelling out your concerns and what other actions I can take. I will respect your ruling though, as you were placed in a position of trust, and you did tell me what was going on. I will just let this one die and think more carefully about how I present other stories. Thank you again.

I was recently writing a story that wasn't the most popular, but it had a small following, and a few people asked me about why it was taken down. Since I have no idea as to what happened or what I did wrong, I'm looking for the person to talk to about it, and to find out if it needs to have something just fixed that went more into an area that wasn't allowed...(I didn't see any rules against anything I posted), or if the theme of the story was wrong for the group (children being caught in a terrible situation--Child trafficking is hinted at, though it is not the kind of thing you you'd think of when you first thing, but more a rescuing kids from poor placements. There was some emotional and physical abuse of one character (the reason she was taken out of that home, (kidnapped), to be rehomed, and police were involved in investigating what happened there. If no one knows how or why it was taken down, then is the site just being funny again, and corrupting or deleting things randomly? Just curious. I am okay with fixing anything that was written that the site or mods didn't like in the story, and if the whole story was a no-no, then I'm willing to just move on, but I had a couple of people ask me (bug me) a little bit, honestly, that they'd like to see the story come back, and are as clueless as I am as to how or why the story was removed entirely from the site rather than maybe a chapter marked for discussion? I don't know how you do things though, and I don't mean to rock the boat or anything, though knowing what in the story triggered it being taken down might help me in the future to make sure I stay away from certain things.

Ralph Kean, a 35 year old, yellow bond blue eyed fellow, taught eighth grade History, seventh grade Government, and Sixth grade World Culture classes at FootValley Middle School. He had over 100 students, all with their own excuses and their own personalities so that it was impossible to keep up with them all, and yet.... The bell had just rung, and students were in their seats copying the vocabulary for the words that would be important to the day's history lecture from the talking points of what lead the United States into the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was already the second week of November, and out the window, you could see a foot or so of snow layered over the undisturbed areas of the ground. While they were working on their attendance seat work, work he assigned them so he could take attendance without foolishness, he looked around to see who were all in his class. He has noticed that one particular student has had a few absences, some missing homework, and had missed two important tests this year so far. He was a bit worried about her, and wanted to talk to her at the end of the period if she was there that day.

"Oh, no, sweetheart, it is no problem at all. I am happy to make sure I feel you are safe, but comfortable about where you are. Just as long as you try to obey me within good reason, and let me keep you safe. That's what a parent or guardian should do for a child, and as you don't have a guardian right now, then it seems that is my role until we figure something else out." He hugged her. "So promise you stay in the area I drop you off in at the library so I can find you, well, unless you are going to the bathroom and then come right back, okay?" He got her outside and to the bus stop. Once they were on the bus again, he kept a hand on her to make sure everyone knew this child was with him. His hand just rested on her shoulder or in her hands for the most part. Then the bus came to the library....

Larry frowned at the little one. "Honey, kids your age shouldn't be left alone for that long. What if something happened while you were all alone? You might be smart enough to hand some problems, but there are things that young kids should not be handling, such as being in an unsafe area without an adult around." He smiled at her. "We'll get a safer place to stay once I start working regularly, and then it won't be so bad to leave you for a couple of hours, though. You just need to be patient because I don't want you to get hurt, baby." Larry thought a moment. "Or..., you know what? I think there might be a library not too far from the church. Maybe I can take you there, as long as you promise me not to leave there, and you start looking for me when I say to? Would that work? Maybe meet me where I drop you off at a specific time?" Larry didn't want to force the child. Of course, he thought it would be good for her to go to church, but it should be something she does of her own free will, especially because she wasn't technically his child. "If you have a potty accident, though, you'll have to sit there until I get you, okay? I mean I know you've told me you don't normally do it in the day, and I have really nothing to do about it right now if it does happen, but... Well, we could pack some extra panties and your extra pants for you, I guess, just in case." He hugged her. "Let's go. If I'm dropping you at the library first, then we don't have much time for me to get to church on time." He ushered her out the door whether she chose to stay with him or go to the library as they could talk about it on the way, if there was still something to say about it.

That is true, but I'd find it hard for Maddy to not bring it up if Grace does anything that would upset a bedwetter. Maddy also has a secret on her sister, regardless that she made a deal with her in the beginning, she could use that to her advantage to make sure her sister doesn't out her to anyone.

Oh, how the Screw Turns! I loved this latest episode. Now, what is sister going to do? She understands the humiliation and fear of wetting and worried about being found out. She was probably in her sister's shoes plenty of times, only with a real accident when they had vacation with relatives and she was fearful of someone catching her that wasn't her mom, dad, or maybe even grandma. I am going to love seeing how Grace navigates this with her younger wet sister, one who we have no idea how she is going to react to Grace finding out, but we know she's as scared as a young animal knowing the tiger is prowling close by and could leap at it at any moment!

"I know, that's why I explained to you, that if you go, and God is real, then it could benefit you, but if God isn't real, then it won't hurt you since you'd be with me, and I'd be there to help you and protect you. But yes, while I'm protecting you, you will go where I go unless I find something else I can do where I'd feel comfortable leaving you by yourself. Thirteen year old children should at least be left in a safe place when it's possible." Larry frowned at her. "Now, you are going to get dressed, and I'll help make sure you look nice. Then we will get the bus to church. If you want, you can bring something to doodle on or pass the time, but you will come with me." He sighed knowing he was probably not explaining it any better than anyone else had done for him in the past. He brought her where her clothes were, and he smiled up into her little face. "I'll tell you what," he said. "If you humor me and go to church, I'll do something to humor you. Maybe you want to go play at the park or something. For right now, where I take you can't cost me any more money that it takes to use the bus, but I'll be getting a job soon and when I have money, then we can even go somewhere and spend a little bit, but that will be a little while. It normally takes about two weeks to get your first check." He didn't know that there was an opening, and whether God had anything to do with it or not, there was a permanent placement opening, with the only draw back being it was a small town, so they'd relocate, but it came with a big enough bonus, he'd be able to get a car and a few other things as well as some help securing a trailer house to live in, which had two bedrooms and a small yard. He would thank God and tell her that it was his doing as he believed, but for now, he had no idea that there was a design at work here.

Larry smiled at her, and he tried to help her out of the tub, reaching for a towel to wrap around her. "We are going somewhere where they say a higher power can help comfort you in times of trouble," he said as he tried to coax her towards the other room with the intention of helping her dress. He had already undressed her for a bath, so he didn't see the harm in fully taking care of the child now. "I know some people don't believe in God, but you know, if you pray to something that doesn't exist, then it doesn't do anything, so it won't hurt you. But if he is real, then he may help you if he's not trying to challenge you to make you stronger, so really, you only have to benefit from it, or it stays the same if you worship him, right?" He looked into her little innocent eyes as he explained this still trying to guide her out of the bathroom and to where her clothes are so he could try to dress her.

"No," he agreed with her, not because in his heart he believed she wasn't a baby, but because she needed to be validated, and he figured she probably had not been given enough of that either, or she would have a lot more confidence in getting to the toilet even in the daytime. "You're not a baby. But this is still not your fault, sweetheart. No one has taken the time to help you." He pulled her into his lap as she ate, wanting to comfort the child even if she was older than the typical child you should put in your lap. "It's okay," he whispered. "We will figure things out, sweetie. I'm not going to let you go back to being on the streets, and you are never going back to those people that treated you like a dog, either. Is that okay with you? You stay with me, and I'll make sure you never have to be scared again." He let her finish her cereal, and then he took her to the bathroom, not to put her on the toilet. She would sit if she wanted to, but he led her there in just a pair of panties on her butt, and he started to run her a bath. "We are going to get you cleaned up," he told her rubbing her little shoulders. "I know you took a bath last night, but someone didn't teach you very well. Your hair is still oily, and you still smell, and I'm not talking about the pee, honey. Honestly, those people that kept you really should never have been allowed children. At least it doesn't look like they beat you very much. I hope that's true." He got the tub full, and then he squatted down by her. "Okay, I'll let you do as much as you can first, but I'm going to watch, and then I'll know where I need to start teaching you from. You can't grow up not knowing how to get yourself clean, sweetheart. It's a crime you were allowed to go this long without being shown properly." He watched her intently to make sure of where she missed, so he could go over that with her. Now, as she probably cleaned herself up in one way that she was used to, it was probably not the same order he cleaned, so to him, he probably thought she missed places that in reality, she hadn't washed at the same time as he thought was natural. For instance, if she was rubbing her lower stomach, he might have thought she should wash her privates next, but if she went to her legs, wanting to do her privates in a different order, then he would think she either forgot her stomach or her privates. If she washed her arms and then her legs, he might think she forgot her chest or under her arms. But in the end, he found that he thought she missed behind her ears, a common place for kids to forget, forgot under her arms, her butt crack, and her mid stomach just above her privates. He sighed when she looked up at him. "Okay, now I'm going to wash you all over again, and I want you to try to pay attention to what you feel like I washed that was new. Of course, he never meant to do anything creepy to her, so when it came to washing her "downstairs," he have her the rag and told her how to get clean. Then he smiled. "Good girl," he said as they finished her body. "Now, you are still a little young, and hair is tricky even for an older teen, so I'll just do it today, and when we have a little more time, I'll show you how to do it, honey." He hadn't told her why he was in a hurry, but he did want to take her to church. He wanted all the help he could get, and though he had no proof there was a God, if there was one, then it couldn't hurt by making the deity happy, could it? "Now, soap hurts your eyes," he warned her. "I am sure wherever you came from didn't let you use any shampoo or your hair wouldn't have ever gotten this bad," he told her. "But it does hurt your eyes, so when I tell you to, close your eyes, and I'll tilt your head back so most of it goes to the back of your head anyway to limit how much soap gets near your eyes. Don't open them though until I say so, okay?"

Larry smiled when she first came out of the bathroom, and appreciated her not being picky about having cold cereal on a cold day, but he didn't have a stove, and wasn't allowed anything that would heat up food in the little motel--kitchenette room. When he saw the back of her shirt for a moment but she was already seated by the time he had gotten to her, he frowned and looked down at her crotch which was also a bit wet, and his heart melted a tiny bit knowing in his mind she was thirteen years old, and had obviously been so embarrassed about the day before that she thought she had to lie about being a little bedwetter, and seemed to be trying to pretend she made it to the bathroom when the stains on the shirt obviously told him she had started to wet the bed before she was awake. He squatted down in front of her, and looked her in the eyes. "Baby, I need you to do me a little favor," he reached for her hand. "Reach down for me and touch the shirt that is between your legs, honey. Feel the back of it, too. I don't think there is any other way to show you how I know than to let you know how I know." He gently prodded her out of her seat and started to pull the shirt off of her whether she felt where he told her to or not. "We need to get this off of you, sweetheart. First of all, you're getting the chair wet with it on, but more importantly, you'll get an infection," he pulled the shirt off of her and took it to the bathroom to put in the sink, and then he went and got her a pair of panties and came over and putting them on the other chair that she hadn't sat in yet, he started to pull down her wet panties. "I'm sorry, baby, but you've had an accident and there's no way I'm going to let you sit there and eat while you are dirty. It will make you sick being like that while you're trying to eat, sweetheart. I know you don't understand because you're just a child, but I need to take care of you, baby. That's what I signed up for when I decided to take you home with me last night and protect you." He got her panties off of her, and then he pulled her undershirt off. He frowned because he didn't think she washed herself that well, either. She was supposed to take a bath the night before, but even though she had been sweaty in the night, he didn't believe that the sweat made her smell as bad as she smelled, and it wasn't really just piss he was smelling. She still had pretty oily hair, too. "Oh, baby," he frowned at her. "Didn't those people you were fostered to even teach you how to clean yourself up and wash your hair? You poor little baby girl!" He went ahead and put some panties on her so at least her butt would be covered. He didn't want to tease her with her food. Who knew how many times those people might have done that to her? No, he would definitely let her eat first, but then he was going to make sure she got a bath. The poor little one was in a lot of need for some one to actually care about her and show her how to clean up better. He thought God had given him the answer he prayed for when he found out how dirty she was, and he thought that meant God wanted him to actually take care of her. "Don't cry, baby," he put an arm around her while she ate. "It's not your fault no one taught you how to take care of yourself. Those people that treated you badly should be in jail," he told her. "But as there is little we can do about them right now, I am just going to do everything I can to take care of you, little baby girl."

Larry hadn't yet noticed anything amiss about the little lady as she ran to the toilet. Of course, being a teenager, he imagined that she had not wanted to get up in the night for a couple of reasons. It was cold and looking out the window, he had seen it had snowed, and being a teenager, she was in a strange place, and teens liked their sleep, so she likely didn't jump out of bed until she just couldn't wait anymore. He chuckled to himself. Of course it had been a while since he was a teen himself, and he hadn't been around them for a while, so he didn't realize that there were flaws in his thought process. Teens were not like younger children where they normally avoided the toilet until the last minute like some kids under eight might do under certain situations. He poured her some cereal as he saw the bathroom door close, and after a minute or two, he went to the bathroom door and knocked on it. "Baby? I poured you some cereal. Come out and eat first, and you can take a shower...," he stepped on some water of some kind. Looking down at the floor, he noticed that the spots of water got a little bigger towards the bathroom, but they seemed to start over by her bed. He pulled back her sheets, and while it wasn't obvious that it was pee because it looked like she must have been sweating seeing as even the space near her pillow was slightly damp, still, the larger puddles closer to the bathroom gave away that she was probably starting to wet herself in the bed. He smelled the bed, and he still wasn't sure. It was definitely her smell, but as much as she had sweated and as little pee had actually come out in the bed, it didn't have a strong urine smell. He shook his head. But it was rather cold last night, so he didn't see how she was so sweaty. Maybe she had had a nightmare. Then again, she just ran away from the only place she known could take care of her because even though they were able, they didn't do a very good job of it. He glanced up from inspecting her bedding as the bathroom door opened. He didn't accuse her of peeing right away. He just nodded at the kitchenette where her bowl of cereal was waiting for her. "There's cereal made for you on the counter, and there's orange juice in the fridge and bananas if you want some." As she walked into the kitchen, he continued to watch her, his eyes glancing down to her butt where if she was wet enough, he would notice any wet spot in the shirt.

Larry slept through the night, and when he woke up, he sat up and looked around the room. For a moment, he wondered if he had dreamed having a child actually want and need his help. He knew that it was not something likely to happen, so when he glanced around for signs of the child, his eyes went big when he noticed that she was indeed there. He got out of bed and started to make his way to the bathroom to use it and to get dressed because he didn't want to be dressing in front of a child. As it was, he wore a pair of shorts to bed instead of just underwear, and he was sleeping in a t-shirt, not that there was anything a man had there, but just, felt like some girls didn't appreciate seeing a grown man's naked chest. He thought he had heard it before... "EW!" from young girls that thought he was way too old, and of course, why wouldn't they? When he came out of the bathroom, he looked around again, this time dressed in nice brown slacks and button up white shirt and tie. His hair was combed as neatly as his colic would allow, and he went to the kitchenette. Once again, he checked to see what the child was doing, and if she was awake. He didn't want to pour her breakfast and it get soggy and mushy on her while she was sleeping, but he didn't want to eat in front of her either without making it known that she was supposed to eat, too.

"I'm not saying ten isn't old enough to not worry about herself, but I am saying that 10 years old, kids don't fully get why things are nice or not. At least not all the time. I went to school with kids that found any strange reason possible to push a kid out of the group or make them feel unwanted." Tom frowned. "I don't know that an ice breaking thing would be a bad idea with Lani. We do them sometimes when we notice that there are a few new faces at work, and there's a chance that some of them haven't gotten to know at least names. I'm not talking about a deep dive into who they are, but just, you know, maybe just some funny antics where they learn a few fun facts about one another. Lani wouldn't have to talk, necessarily. We could have a game where the girls just point at stuff, like their favorite animals and maybe mimic the animal or point to their favorite color and then show something of theirs that has that color on it. Just something to maybe help them get used to the idea that there is another child in the house, and that she's a child, not an unexplainable object or animal, you know?" He could see she was getting a bit annoyed at the way Rebecca wasn't seeming to listen to her. "I don't know how to fix what has already happened. But I don't want to teach Rebecca that just because something gets hard, you give up, and I don't want her to think anything can just replace her if she doesn't do something to get rid of it. Do you?" He smiled at Charlotte. "Yes, I am worried about the little one, Lani, but honestly, this is starting to become about Rebecca, too. She especially needs to learn that no matter what happens in the family, she is still our daughter, and we still love her and will pay attention to her needs, but she needs to also learn that life is about sharing her love around." He frowned. "I'll try to talk to Rebecca about how she's feeling later, but maybe instead of telling her directly not to think or feel, maybe you can try to turn that energy around, somehow? Like, if she says that Lani is behaving strangely, ask her how, and be a little goofy so that she knows that Lani isn't really that strange, and then ask her what she thinks she would be able to do to fix it, and when she realizes it's not so easy to do, then maybe she'll realize it's pointless to think about it. I know when I was a kid, I didn't like people to just tell me not to do something because even if they thought they explained it, I rarely really got it when they just told me." He looked at the floor. "Do they still have variants of the poster... I hear, I forget. I see, I remember, and I do, and I understand?" He wasn't sure if that would make his point but he thought, well, that was wrong too. He didn't mean to tell Charlotte anything. They were supposed to figure this out together. They were a team, and he certainly didn't have all the answers. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "If you think there is no good to come from an ice breaker, then I don't know, maybe I can just try to keep them apart a little more for a few days. Maybe they just need time to process in their own way without seeing each other so much? And I could probably alleviate Rebecca's fears about me loving her, if I spend a little time everyday with her to let her know how things are going and maybe when I do, that can give you a little time to start to get Lani to talk a little bit to you. Maybe lunch time or something, when Lani is eating, you can have lunch with her, and I'll take Rebecca with me, and after an hour or ninety minutes, we can swap back, and that should also get Lani used to you for when I have to go back to work?"