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Valandrea

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  1. Hello ! It’s been a while since I posted a story here. The other day, I was looking at Top Chef (it’s going on French TV for a few weeks now) and one of the contesters immediately inspired me a character. I wanted to write a story with depth so there is going to be several chapters. I’ll try to put some omorashi in every chapter but this is more about the relationship between a broken young man and his savior. I really hope you’ll like it ! Please let me know what you think. Chapter 1 : « Congratulations, Danny ! You are the winner of the 14th season of Top Chef France ! » yells the TV presenter. « After all you have been through, you made it, Danny. » he adds, eyes full of empathy. A rumor of hands clapping instantly fills the room. The chef Hélène Darroze is embracing me. I hold the orange knife in my own hand. Everything moves so quickly. Everything around me feels suddenly alive. Yet, I’m not here. I don’t belong in this picture. All those eyes and smiles directed to me seem fake, as if it was just a dream. But then, in the crowd of faces I can’t recognize, I meet her gaze. And it all comes true. I am the center of this pure joy and this is all because of her. They say this is the day it all started. The day when a young 20 years old man becomes someone. Someone who matters. Someone who shines. A star. But, they’re all wrong. This is not the TV who made me. This is not my chef during the competition. This is not even this victory. This is her. All along, this is her. Today, I’m sick of everyone telling me who made me. I’m even tired of those who say I made myself. Today, I feel the urge to tell the truth about myself. I feel the need to give her back what’s been hers from the start : my own existence. I don’t care about this victory day, I care about the going through. This particular moment is not my becoming. Let me tell you how I became. ———————————————————————————————— Five years ago, on September the 3rd, I wake up. This is just a regular day in my not so regular life. I’m 15 and starting high school, despite my reluctance. I tried not to but there is nowhere else to go for me and nowhere else for them to put me. I’m an annoyance and I know it. I dare say I even like it. It gives a sense to my existence. I’m not scared to start high school, on the contrary. Finally a new place to put people through hell ! And I know some older students there who already made my reputation… How fun this will be. So when I live the foster care that morning, I don’t know that this is the day my life is going to change forever. The day begins as any first day in a new school. We gather in the great hall and listen to a boring principal presenting the school, insisting on the importance of this year, bla bla bla… But the afternoon takes a turn I didn’t expect. I follow my fellow classmates to the classroom that will be mine for the year. Same old walls, same boring chairs… We all take our sits, and of course, I take the one on the far back of the room. Far from anyone. I don’t intend to change my habits : I intend to stay alone and dangerous. I like what I see from the back of a room. I see everyone and no one can see me, unless someone dare turning to me, which no one in his sane mind does. Being in the back gives me tranquility and power. But while I’m staring dangerously at my classmates, something strikes me. Something is wrong here. There’s an unusual calm around me. Nobody is even whispering. All the faces are turning to the head of the class as if something magical appeared. But despite the strangeness of the scene, I joyfully welcome the silence. This is the ideal condition to make a smashing entrance. I could scream like a mad person, kick some chairs around, start a fight with some random guy for no reason. I could easily make myself known. But I don’t move. What am I waiting for ? I don’t know why but I stay still, silent. Something is holding me back. I dare to follow my classmates gaze and look in front of me. I suddenly refrain a need to laugh. Looking directly at me is a small young woman. She must be 23-24 years old. So small I could crush her with one kick in the head. But for some unknown reason, I don’t laugh. Instead, I unconsciously lower my head under her gaze. For fuck’s sake, how can I just be mesmerized by such a little woman like that ? I don’t know how to explain, even five years later, but the atmosphere in the room is forcing me to be calm, respectful, and somehow docile. How does she do that ? How can a little woman like her has such a hold on thirty kids she doesn’t even know ? I find myself sitting straight in my chair, waiting for the right moment to blow. I want to blow ! I refuse to submit to that woman, to any woman for that matter. But there is no right moment. I listen and don’t say a word during this first afternoon. I don’t recognize myself but I can’t help it, I’m kind of stunned. She’s not a particularly pretty woman, nor a frightening one. Nevertheless, she talks and I just shut up. Mrs Lebrun, that’s her name. So classic. Not even a little impressive. There is nothing really that interesting in her welcoming speech. But there is something about her attitude, her voice, her eyes… She seems severe, cold even, but in the same time, she seems very close to her students. She doesn’t know any of us but she makes us feel like she sees right through us. There is something in the way she looks at us that I never seen in any teacher, in any person actually. She doesn’t just look at you, she looks into you. And that’s impressive. During three hours this afternoon, I’m torn between my need to take her down and my incapacity of doing so. For the first time in my life, I feel weak. When the ring finally bells, I get up on my feet with rage. I need to get out of here. I need to break or burn something. All this repressed rage is boiling in me, needing to come out. « Danny, I need a word with you. » Mrs Lebrun murmured firmly. I’m already at the door, I could ignore her and run. I could. But I don’t. Instead I turn back, swallowing with difficulty. Is it the rage or the apprehension ? « Are you okay ? » she asks with apparent concern. This is the first time in my entire life a teacher is concerned about my well being. Usually, they’re so scared or annoyed that they don’t even bother to look at me. But Mrs Lebrun is looking directly at me, her eyes burning my skin. I can’t help but lower my eyes again. « Why ? » I ask brutally. « You seemed on edge all afternoon. Am I wrong ? » « I’m fine. » I say sharply. What does she want anyway ? Does she think we’re going to be friends ? I’m used to take care of myself. I’m an independent man. I never needed help from anyone. As I feel really annoyed by the sudden concern for me, I’m also a little bit moved by it. What’s happening to me ? « If you say you’re fine, then you’re fine. » she says. « But starting tomorrow, I want you to sit here. » she orders while pointing the chair right under her desk. « What ? Who do you think you are to give me orders like that ? » I am so furious that I forget her eyes, I forget her power and free a little bit of the rage burning inside me. This is going too far. She can’t think I’m going to obey her ! My heart is pounding like mad. I feel sweaty. I want to punch her. Do I feel a little nervous about her response though ? « I think I am your head teacher. And I think you should calm down immediately if you don’t want to regret it. » she says calmly, looking straight at me. « You seemed on edge today and you don’t wish to talk about it. I can respect that. But what would you do in my situation ? Ignore and let go ? Well, that’s not the way I do things. As your head teacher, I have a responsibility towards you. I can’t go through your mind to understand what’s wrong but I can make sure that I see you more clearly everyday. » I can’t even respond. She’s just so calm. I don’t know how to do with calm people. I can do with fear, anger, sadness but I’m lost in her assurance. « Starting tomorrow, you will sit here. Do I make myself clear ? » she orders, confident. « We’ll see if I even show up. » I dare to say. What can she do to make me come to school anyway ? « I know where you live, young man. » she says, calm and cold. Is she really suggesting that she would come and get me at the foster care ? No one has ever came to the foster care. Why a teacher that I just met is treating me like she knows and care for me ? I’m stunned. Suddenly I feel a curious pinch in my lower abdomen. Do I need to pee right now ? What is happening to me ? I’m suddenly out of breath. She sees my lack of control, looking right through me while I’m loosing myself. She sees that I don’t know how to deal with her, or me, and I’m unconsciously giving her power. « Alright ! » I finally yell, annoyed by her absolute confidence and my sudden weakness. « I’ll sit here. » I say before leaving the room in pure fury. I am so mad at myself. What’s going on here ? Why this obedience ? Why this urgent need to pee ? How did I become so weak ? When I run with rage through the corridor to the nearest toilets, I don’t feel the drops of pee wetting my briefs. I run, unconscious of my lack of control. I don’t want to see the absolute change Mrs Lebrun has operated in me. I just run, as if I can flee myself. When I’m finally in the bathroom, after smashing the door behind me, I discover in an absolute shock my wet pants. How did this happened ? I didn’t have the urge to pee before a minute ago. I just peed my pants ! Like a fucking three years old, I didn’t even realize that I lost control. As I relieve myself, letting go the rest of my pee in the toilet, I feel my rage leaving my body. I’m not mad anymore, I’m just worried and tired. For the first time in my life, I completely lost control in that classroom. If I’m not in control anymore, what will I become ?
  2. After some research, I found out that @bellamariebitch deleted all her vids. I won't look for them anymore, then. I prefer to respect her wish. Nevertheless, thank you some much for your help !
  3. Yes, that's her ! Thank you for helping me remember. That is such a shame we can't upload the video... This was my favorite one, I think. Do you know where we can find it ?
  4. Hello everyone ! I'm desperately looking for a video I can't find anymore on the site. I don't remember the title nor the actress but I remember the plot perfectly. The camera follows a girl in the woods. She's desperate and has to stop often to hold herself. She wears a dark legging and wears a flat pad (I think !). In my memory she says something like "I know daddy, I shouldn't have gone out without a diaper". At the end, she undresses and pees voluntarily on the floor. In my memories, the girl has long blond hair. I thought I found this video on this site but after long researches I still can't find it... Could you help me ? Thank you so much in advance !
  5. A Christmas accident « Stop this, right now Zachary ! » This was the sound of his father’s voice. As he heard it, Zach instantly let go of his cousin’s collar. He suddenly realized what had happened : he went on a violent fight with his cousin Paul and was actually beating his head on the ground. It took a moment to reconnect with reality and to remember why this fight had begun. Was it because Paul called him a « dick » (and other beautiful names of that sort) or because he had been trying (and succeeding) for several days to prove that his dad was closer to him than to his own son ? Either way, Zach had crashed his cousin. Finally. After years and years of self control, he exploded. This intense hate for each other began 6 christmases ago, when Zach’s cousin lost his father in a car accident. They were only 9 years old when it happened. Since that day, Zach’s father gave almost all his time and energy to become a father figure to his nephew, neglecting his own son. Zach had never told his dad how much he missed him, it wouldn’t have been fair, but his nephew knew his loss and pain and every christmas holiday became hell since then. His cousin made sure Zach would suffer from jealousy and negligence every time. But this time, he crossed the line. As he was trying to reconnect, Zach suddenly felt arms getting him up with violence and pushing him away. The next thing he saw was his dad trying to get his nephew up with care (as a doctor would do ? or as a father ?). Paul’s face was covered in blood. The room around them became messy : every member of the family was around Paul, crying, screaming, agitating while Zach was standing on a corner, looking at his bloody hands in shock. What had he done ? He could feel every one gazing at him with fear and anger and looking at his cousin with pity. « Nothing’s broken. » reassured Zach’s dad, looking at the assistance. « Are you okay, Paul ? » he asked, turning back to the boy. « He hurt me, uncle. » Paul said in a soft voice. « I know. You will be fine, my boy. I’ll go get some medicine and you get some rest. » he said. « Take him to his room and clean his face. I’ll be back as fast as I can. » he said to his sister, Paul’s mother. As he was a doctor, every one listened carefully to Zach’s dad. Plus, he was the kind of man you obeyed to, wether you agreed with him or not. He was always fair, upright and firm. His authority was unquestionable. As his dad turned his gaze back to him, Zach felt a leak of pee wetting his underwear. Saying he was afraid of him at this instant would be an understatement. He was completely frozen, incapable of doing anything. As his dad took a step forward him, Zach felt another leak of pee leaving his penis. His briefs were soaked, that was sure. The feeling of wet woke him up and he realized then that he had a furious need to pee. « You come with me. » his dad said in a sharp voice, taking a firm grip on his son’s arm. As they lead to the front door, Zach took a look at the bathroom door in despair. « Dad… » « Not a word. » his dad responded in anger. Zach knew he wouldn’t hold long. Maybe it was because of the fear, the shock or the sadness but he has this feeling of certainty that he would not come back to the house with his pants dry. As on every family holiday, they were staying in the country house, 3 miles away from the city center. Zach wouldn’t be able to hold until they arrived in town, he knew it. When they arrived to the car, Zach’s dad pushed him inside before slamming the door. Before his dad start the vehicle, Zach tried one more time. « Dad… I can’t go with you. I need to… » he started. « I’m not leaving you in that house alone anymore. You will take your responsibility, Zachary. You will buy some medicines and apologize to your cousin. I don’t want to hear another word now. » he replied sharply. As they drove off, Zach could feel tears of despair growing in his eyes. His bladder was beginning to kill him with pain. He crossed his legs, trying to refrain his urgent need. He wanted to put his hands on his crotch, pinch his penis to prevent any leak but he couldn’t show his dad that he was about to have an accident in his pants. « I can’t believe what just happened. Are you out of your mind, Zach ? » his dad finally asked as he get on the highway. Zach didn’t know how to answer to that question. Or if he would even be able to speak. He just wanted to cry out his despair. He had two urgent needs : he needed his dad to recognize his presence in the family and he needed his dad to let him pee. Both these needs were melting and making him absolutely weak. « You won’t talk ? You want to let me talk for you, is that it ? » his dad continued, angry. Zach felt a lump leave his throat as he felt a sharp stream leave his penis. He could hear the hissing noise of pee wetting the front of his jeans. In a moan, he instantly put both his hands on his crotch to stop the flow and hide the distinct wet patch forming on the front of his trousers. « You are 15 years old, Zach ! How can you act so childishly ? It has been six years now that you constantly fight with your cousin ! I thought you would grow up and cease this stupid rivalry over the years. But no, you had to add violence ! » he screamed, gazing furiously at the road. « Please… » Zach murmured as he felt another spurt wetting his jeans. « Please ? You want me to stop yelling, Zach ? » he asked ironically. « You should have think of the consequences before beating up your cousin ! I can’t believe my son did such a foolish thing ! » he continued. « Oh god… Dad… » Zach murmured between his tears. He couldn’t help but squirm a little on his seat. He could feel a succession of spurts leaving his briefs and hit his jeans. He could feel his bottom getting completely soaked. He wouldn’t be able to hide it any longer. « You are starting to realize what you did, now ? » his dad asked in a softer voice as he noticed his son’s tears. What Zach was beginning to realize at this instant was his need to poop. As the need to pee grew he could feel farts leaving his butthole. « Oh no… I can’t hold it… » he murmured. « You can cry, Zach. It’s a good thing you realize the stupidity of your actions. » his dad said, thinking his son was trying to hold his tears. As a succession of spurts wet his jeans, a succession of farts left his butthole. He was losing both battles : pee and poop. He could feel his poop pushing in his butt, trying to force the entry onto his briefs. He wanted to put his hand on his bottom but his dad would instantly know that he was having an accident in in pants. A look on the outside made him realized that they were almost there, they were entering the center of the town. He knew he couldn’t hide this any longer. « Dad… I need to pee… » he cried softly. « What ? Is that what you can’t hold ? » his dad asked with incomprehension. Zach nodded, blushing. « We’re almost there, hold a little longer. » his dad ordered. « I don’t think I can, dad… » Zach said, lowing his head as he felt another long spurt wetting his leg. Zach’s dad took a look at his son and noticed his complete despair. The young man was squirming on his seat, crying, holding his crotch like hell. He looked like a little boy. How could he had not seen his desperate state ? « Have you wet your pants already ? » he asked. Zach couldn’t answer. He couldn’t admit what was happening right now. He couldn’t tell his dad how wet he was and how his poop was threatening to invade his briefs. He just timidly shook his head in deny. « Take your hands of your pants, Zachary. » his dad ordered as he parked the car. Zach shook his head. « Take your hands away, now. » he said, sharper. As Zach took his hands away, he felt long spurt wetting his thigh and running through his leg. « You already peed your pants, Zach ! » he said, surprised, « Stand up that I can see how much of an accident this is. » he asked his son. Zach stood on his fragile feet, trying not to unclenched his legs. He was so ashamed. His dad would see how much he had peed already. But this was not even the bigger issue. As he rose, he felt farts leaving his butt, opening his butthole. He could feel his poop pushing harder and harder. He couldn’t help but put a hand on his butt to prevent poop to get out. « Oh dear. Do you have to poop, Zach ? » his dad asked in disbelief. « I need to poop so bad, daddy. » Zach cried. « I can’t hold it any longer. It’s pushing so bad… » he continued. « Hold on, boy. We are going out of the car and we’ll find some bathroom quickly. » he said calmly. « But you have to restrain yourself from peeing and pooping in your pants. Can you male it for me, boy ? » he asked. « I can’t hold it… I’m going to poop myself, dad. » Zach cried. « Come on, let’s get out now. » his dad said while leaving his seat and opening his son’s car door. « Get on your feet, quick ! » he ordered. Zach tried to rise from the car as fast as possible but every step was very painful and dangerous. He could feel his penis leaking constantly and his poop getting out. As he finally got out of the car, he felt his bladder break in a very long spurt. His legs were wetting until a large paddle of urine was formed around his feet. His dad and him both could hear the clear and violent hissing sound before the urine hit the floor. As he tried so hard not to let go of his bottom, he felt his butthole loosen at the same time as his bladder. In a few silent farts, he felt his poop pushing despite his will. He felt his briefs filling with a hard poop, little by little. First he felt a small bump forming on his bottom but in a second fart he felt his bump getting bigger and heavier. After 3 involuntary pushes, he had finally done it. Zach had had a poop accident in his pants. His hand on his butt was now completely useless : the only thing he was holding was a big poop in a wet pants… As he realized his horrible situation, he fell on the ground, in tears, trying to hide himself from his dad and every one around who had seen the accident. He wanted to hide under the car and never get out. But then he felt an arm around his shoulders. « It’s over, boy. Calm now. I’m sorry I didn’t see you had to go to the bathroom, my dear boy. » his dad said softly before wrapping his son in his arms. For the first time in 6 years, Zach felt like his daddy’s boy.
  6. Let me know if you wished to see stories with male pee desperation. I need inspiration.
  7. Hello everyone ! Here's a new story. I have been writing it in french for a long time now and decided to translate it in english (I hope there are not too many language's errors...). I hope you'll like it. As usual it's all about the teacher/student relationship... I need to get more imagination ! -------- Ann Bardin finally got her students out of her busy mind when she lied down in her bed. This awful day was now behind her. She turned to her boyfriend Paul, already asleep for a few minutes, and felt calmed in a second. With her iced fingers, she touched his soft shoulder’s skin and closed her eyes. The accumulated fatigue during the day and his boyfriend’s warmth led her to fall sleep rapidly. The day had started well, Ann was happy to rejoin her students after a week of holiday. But the afternoon with her CGSE’s students was painful. She particularly liked her CGSE’s students, they were very hard workers and very kind kids and she was always happy to teach them. But this day was a bit special, she had to give them back their copies from their CGSE’s training exam passed before the holiday. Most of the students had done well but a few of them had failed. Ann made sure to reassure them and repeated that this was just a training and not a definitive result, but some students reacted very seriously, some even cried a little. Ann felt armless. If she loved her students and told it to them often, she was not a demonstrative person. And, besides with her boyfriend, she was not very talented when it came to physical stuff. She knew some kids today just needed a hand on their shoulder but she couldn’t do it, as if she didn’t know how to do it. And tonight, she couldn’t help but feel a pinch of guilt in her stomach. Hopefully, Paul and his warm skin were there to make her feel better. And on these thoughts she rejoined him in her dreams. Ann and Paul were peacefully sleeping when they heard violent knocks coming from the front door. Waking up in a jolt, Ann and Paul quickly stood up in their bed. After a look at her alarm clock, Ann noticed that it was past 2 o’clock at night. « Who can knock at our door at 2 am ? » she asked, panicked. Before even answering, Paul went out of bed to open the window and looked down on the street. All he could see was some dark hair. But before he could shut the window, they distinctly heard the voice of a young man yelling « Mrs Bardin ! ». « Is he one of your students ?! » questioned Paul, stunned. Ann got out and went looking at the window but couldn’t see more than Paul did. « What is one of your students doing here ? » continued Paul. Ann, astounded by the event, didn’t say a word. The knocking on the door was getting heavier and the constant young man’s screaming was now full of despair. « I’ll go look. » said Ann, fully awake now. « Do you want me to come with you ? » offered Paul, worried. « No, it’s better that I go alone. Go back to bed, darling. I’ll try to fix this. » she answered. « If anything goes wrong, you scream, okay ? » said Paul, serious. « Don’t worry, dear. » she said with a smile. It was the first time Ann had to confront this kind of situations. The school where she worked was situated in a small town, thirty minutes away from where she lived. In other words, no student was supposedly living in the city. When she went down the stairs, she felt worrier and worrier. Not for her her, her students were not known to be violent, but for the young man at her door whose screams sounded more and more imploring. « Mrs Bardin, please ! Open the door ! » she heard screaming while she was crossing the living-room in quick steps. When she opened the door, she was stunned to see one of her CGSE’s students slumped on her front door. The young man was called Ibrahim. A discreet and proud student, very conscientious in his work. He was the last student she could have imagine to be in her doorstep screaming desperately in the middle of the night. His eyes red, his jeans ripped on the knee, the knee visibly injured by a recent fall, unsteady on his feet, Ibrahim was clearly drunk. « Mrs Bardin ! » he screamed softer as he saw his teacher’s face. « Ibrahim ! What are you doing here ? » she asked, in shock. « Mrs Bardin… I needed to see you. I definitely needed to see you. » he said with apparent difficulty. « Have you been drinking, Ibrahim ? » she asked when she noticed the boy was nearly tripping. « No. I never drink, madam. » he said with a smile that looked like a grimace. « Come on in, quickly. » she ordered harshly. « Sit down here. » she said while designating the couch with a hand. As Ibrahim was making his way to the couch, Ann heard Paul going down the stairs and saw his head appearing through the door leading to the stairs. « Is everything alright ? » he asked, softly. « Good evening, sir. I… I’m sorry to disturb you… I didn’t mean… to disturb. » screamed Ibrahim with a hiccup when he noticed Paul. « Wait. What am I doing here ? I never should have come here ! Oh fuck. I’m sorry, Mrs Bardin ! » he said, suddenly realizing where he was. He was going clumsily to the front door but Ann stopped him without any difficulty. She put a hand on his elbow and led him back gently to the couch. « You won’t go anywhere in your state, Ibrahim. Sit back down and stay calm. » she said firmly to the young man and then, turning her head to Paul « Go back to bed, I take care of him. » « Alright. Call me if you need anything, love. » said Paul before turning back and going back to the bedroom. Ann sat down on the coffee table, in front of the young man and detailed his face. He had been crying and was looking completely lost. « What are you doing here, Ibrahim ? » she asked softly. « I don’t… know. I had my basketball practice tonight and I didn’t want to go home… » he said hesitantly. « And what are you doing here, at my house ? » she continued. « I knew your were living here… I saw you one day in the street before practice. I remembered that tonight and I looked up on the internet and found your address. I didn’t want to go home, Mrs Bardin. And I really wanted to see you. I wanted to say I’m sorry. » he admitted, serious. « What are you talking about ? What are you sorry for, Ibrahim ? » « Because I suck. I’m a big fat failure. I failed my exam. » he said harshly. « Is that why you drunk tonight ? » she asked. « Maybe. I just wanted to stop thinking. I went out with some friends and I didn’t want to go home. I don’t want to see my parents now. I don’t want them to be ashamed or worried. » « What nonsense are you saying ? It’s just a training exam, it’s just a grade ! You can’t react like that for a simple grade, Ibrahim. » she said firmly while taking his chin in her palm. « Look at me in the eyes, boy. It is just a grade. » she continued. « You say that but for me it’s more than just a grade. For me, succeeding in school is a way out of my life. » he said while taking his chin out of the embrace. There was a brief moment of silence, Ann didn’t know what to respond to such visible pain. But then she suddenly realized that she was missing a very important information. « Did you tell your parents that you were not coming home tonight ? » she asked, worried. « There’s no need, my parents trust me. They know I wouldn’t get into trouble. » he answered maturely. « Because going through the streets in the middle of the night before a school day and knocking at your teacher’s house completely drunk is not enough trouble for you ? » she replied sarcastically. « You’re gonna call your parents right now. They must be sickly worried by now. » she ordered. « I can’t call them like that, Mrs Bardin ! I’m drunk ! Please, don’t make me call them. Please ! » he prayed. « Give me their number. » she said harshly, after a second of reflexion. She left the coffee table to get the phone and dialed the number. At first she thought nobody would answer but she finally heard a sleepy « hello ». She talked to Ibrahim’s mother on the phone and avoided to tell her in which state she found her son. And as though Ann apprehended the call before, the discussion went shortly and quietly. Ibrahim’s parents didn’t worry and just thought that he had just decided to sleep at a friend’s house. They didn’t see any problem for him to stay at Mrs Bardin house since he was already there. Ann didn’t show any sign of surprise or perplexity when she came back to her student, not willing to make him sad, but she thought to herself that it was a very detached and cold reaction from parents who just heard that their son was walking through the city at night. « You’re going to sleep here tonight. We’re gonna clean this wound on your knee, make you drink a lot of water to get all the alcohol you drunk out of your body and we’ll talk calmly about all this tomorrow. Agreed ? » she said. « Yes, madam. » he answered, lowering his head. While Ann went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, she took a deep breath. She just realized that her breath was somewhat cut since she heard Ibrahim knocking at her door. Everything happened so fast. What was the kid doing here, at her house ? And, even more importantly, what were his parents thinking letting him wander around some city on a Wednesday night ? But there was no time for questions now, Ibrahim was in such a state of inebriation that he couldn’t be left on his own in the living-room. And what if he got away ? It would be her responsibility now. Listening to the silence coming from the other room, she stepped in it quickly. But the kid was still at the same place, half asleep, slumped on the sofa’s pillows. He looked particularly vulnerable and innocent at this instant. A perfectly opposed image to the one Ann was used to see in class. She still could remember those few words he said at the parents-teachers meeting. She remembered this hard and proud look when she asked what he wished to do in the future. Since his answer, Ann have been looking at Ibrahim differently. Since that day, she never looked at him as if he was a kid. « I want to save my parents and be proud of what I do, no matter what I do ». She also remembered his parents seating next to him, a couple visibly overpassed by its own situation : neither of them really talked english and they remained silent during the entire meeting, resting completely on their son to lead the discussion. And, given this late visit from Ibrahim, they seemed to rest on him to take care of his own self. Ann realized that she had somehow overestimated the kid’s capacity. Slumped on her sofa in his torn jeans, his eyes half closed, his smeared face, Ibrahim surely didn’t look like a responsible adult. No. What she could see was a lost teenager. « What am I doing here ? » he called out. « You’re ate my place, Ibrahim. Don’t worry. » said Ann, getting back on the coffee table. « What do I do here ? I’m sorry, Mrs Bardin, I never should have come… » he said firmly while getting up with great difficulty. While he was getting to the door, Ann stopped him with a hand on his elbow, again. « You’re not going anywhere tonight, Ibrahim. Night walks are done for today. Don’t worry about school, I’ll take you with me tomorrow morning. But for now, we’ll go to sleep peacefully, ok ? » she said softly. « But… I have to get back home. I can’t stay here, it’s your place. » he said, as if he had been absent until now. « I called your parents, Ibrahim. They know you’re here, don’t worry. You’re gonna stay here tonight. Everything will get better in the morning. » she continued, patiently. « Did… Did you say anything about… You know ? » he asked, worried. « I said the essential. If you’re asking if I said that you were drunk then no, not tonight. » she said. « Now, enough talking. It’s late and time to sleep. » She designated the stairs and was prepared to follow him but she noticed easily the kid’s difficulty to place a foot in front of the other. Without asking his permission, she placed Ibrahim’s arm around her shoulders and held him by the waist. It was quite comic to see them both in this position, Ann was quite small and Ibrahim quite tall. The ridicule of the scene seemed to hit the young man because he brutally got out of the embrace. « I don’t need help ! I can walk by myself. » he screamed shamefully. Ann didn’t even get the time to reply before the boy tripped on a step and sprawled against the wall. « Not very convincing… Can you stop acting so proud now, Ibrahim ? » she asked ironically. Despite his red cheeks, the kid let himself carry by his teacher to the bathroom, on the first floor. She sat him down on the bath’s ledge and looked through the medicine cabinet for his hurt knee. As she was getting ready to apply a coton impregnated with alcohol on the injury, Ibrahim stopped her. « I can do it, madam. I know how to apply some alcohol on a wound. » he said coldly. « Given your spectacle in the stairs, if I give you the coton I’m afraid you might drink it… » she said sardonically. « Now, what if you just keep quiet and let me do my job ? » she asked rhetorically. After she bandaged the wound, Ann went to her bedroom. « Stay right here, I’ll go get you some clothes for tonight. » she said before leaving the bathroom. Back into her bedroom, she noticed the light turned on and Paul’s interrogative look. « What’s going on ? » he murmured, worried. « I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, but it’s gonna be fine. He’s gonna stay here tonight and I need some kind of pyjamas. Could you lend me some of your clothes ? » she asked. Paul got out of bed and went through the wardrobe. He got out an old grey jogger and a black shirt and gave them to his wife. « Thanks, Paul. » she said, kissing his cheek. « I’m gonna put him into bed and I’ll be right back, okay ? » « Take your time, don’t worry about me. » he answered. Ann went back to the bathroom et found Ibrahim seating on the floor, half asleep. « It’s not bedtime yet, Ibrahim. You won’t go to bed before you put your pyjamas on and drank some water. » she said while giving him the clothes and the bottle of water. Ibrahim obeyed and drank half the bottle of water. « I found you some clothes to sleep. I let you change and then I’ll take you to your room, it’s on the second floor. I’ll be right outside. » she said before closing the bathroom door behind her. After a minute, Ibrahim had joined her. They climbed the stairs heavily before opening the guest room’s door. Without even a look for the room around him, Ibrahim fell onto the bed and started snoring. Legs half out of the bed, mouth opened, eyes closed, Ann couldn’t refrain a little smile. Where was that big young man she used to know ? At this moment, Ibrahim had lost every adult physical aspect, he was only a child. She hesitated for a second to let him stay like he was but decided that it was necessary to put him under the blankets given the cold temperatures outside. « It’s almost over, Ibrahim. Come one, help me a little. Let’s get you to bed. » she said softly while shaking his shoulder. « Mmmh. » only said the kid. Without waking up completely and with his teacher’s help, the teen climbed uneasily the blanket and slipped under it. While adjusting the blanket around him, Ann noticed the mix of juvenility and pride on Ibrahim’s face. Even asleep, even drunk, even lost, the boy remained a little proud. She left the bottle beside him and left the room, making sure to left the door opened a little. Back into her room, the light was off and a glance at her alarm clock let her know that it was 2.45 AM. The day after was going to be very long… She went to bed and put her face against her husband back, hoping that this warm contact would led her to an easy sleep. Paul didn’t move, he was profoundly asleep. But Ann couldn’t stop her thoughts. She finally fell in a very light sleep, listening to every noise coming from the room upstairs. Only the snoring sound coming from the boy’s room reassured her enough to let down her barriers and close her eyes. It must have been nearly 4 am when Ann suddenly woke up. She had heard the bathroom door open brutally. A look on her side confirmed her that it wasn’t Paul, he was serenely sleeping. She left the bed for the second time that night and closed the bedroom door with precaution. When she took a glance through the bathroom door, she realized that she had not been dreaming. Crouched over the toilet was Ibrahim, his head dived into the basin. He was spitting a lot. She kneeled down next to him. He visibly didn’t hear her coming because he jumped a little when he felt her hand on his back. With a hand placed on his sweating back, Ann was looking for an eye contact but the boy didn’t raise his head. Ann could feel the boy’s back tremble. It looked like he was sobbing. Or maybe he was just holding back his nausea ? « Don’t hold back, Ibrahim. Quicker you let it out, quicker it will be over. » she said softly. After a second, she heard the young man vomit into the basin. She kept caressing his back, wet from the sweat, during his vomiting. But even after these few minutes of sickness, Ibrahim didn’t raise his head from the toilet. He didn’t spill anymore nor did he tremble. Signs of nausea had disappeared but the boy kept his face hidden in the basin and his back was still shaking regularly. Ann didn’t understand. « Get your head out, Ibrahim. I have to flush the toilet. » she said firmly. Only when the boy got his head out, Ann understood the shaking. The boy was crying furiously, violent sobs ripping his throat. These tears were not usual sickness ones. Ann could see a flow of tears leaving the kid’s eyes. Surprised and worried, she turned to Ibrahim and put a hand on his shoulder. « What’s going on, kid ? » she asked, worried. The teen only shook his head furiously, tears still leaving his tired eyes. « It’s normal to get sick when you drink too much, you know ? It’s not a big deal. » she said softly. « Is it why you cry ? Because you were sick ? » she asked, perplex. He hit the floor with his hand in response and continued to shake his head with visible anger. « Was it a bad dream ? » she asked. He shook his head again. She would have never imagine seeing Ibrahim sob like he was right now. He was so pudique. And now he was crying like a baby in front of his english teacher. For what ? For being sick ? For being drunk ? For a bad grade ? Why ? Realizing that she would have no answer from the boy tonight, she rose to take a wet towel and calmed down this teary face and this sweaty back. But at the second she was back on her feet she saw Ibrahim cover himself, his head in his hands, sobs multiplying. She fixed the teen’s face, her eyebrows frowning with incomprehension. What was going on ? And then, it hit her. She suddenly understood why the kid was hiding his face. She understood why; because she was seeing him from above. From above, she could notice that the sweat marks on his back were extending to his calves. But it wasn’t sweat, was it ? It looked like the mark of an accident. Did Ibrahim wet his pants ? She just couldn’t believe it. « Did… Did you wet the bed, Ibrahim ? » she asked, embarrassed and perplex. She saw the kid’s cheeks suddenly blushing. Ann didn’t need a clearer answer. It was obvious that the kid had wet his bed that night. She didn’t wait longer before kneeling back in front of him, instantly forgetting about her teacher’s status, the proper distance between a teacher and her students and forgetting her own difficulty to touch anybody. She put softly her hands around Ibrahim’s face et forced him to lower his head. « Look at me, Ibrahim. It’s alright. It was an accident. It happens when you drink too much to have an accident and wet the bed. » she said gently. Ibrahim couldn’t look at his teacher. He wished, at that moment, that he had never came to her. He wished he could bury himself in the ground right now. « Look at me, darling. It’s over. » she kept saying softer when she noticed the sobs getting deeper. She understood that words wouldn’t be enough this time. She opened her arms. She never would have done that before, but at this moment she couldn’t bare to look at this suffering kid any longer. « Come here, darling. » she said. Despite a first obvious reluctance, Ibrahim let him fall into Mrs Bardin arms easily. Despite his own personal rule to not let anyone see any sign of weakness in him, he forgot everything. He needed to let go. After a moment of reassuring silence, Ibrahim felt a little better and got out of the embrace. « I’m sorry, Mrs Bardin. I didn’t want to soil your sheets and clothes. I didn’t mean to wet the bed. I’ll clean this up and we’ll forget about it all. » he said firmly as getting up. « Yes, I forgive you, Ibrahim. Because there is nothing to forgive. But no, you won’t clean anything at all. And no, we won’t forget about what happened. Because in all this there’s a hurt teenager. » she replied more firmly. « I know you don’t like it but that’s the way it is, you’re a kid and I’m an adult. So, you’re gonna get into the shower while I’m getting some fresh clothes for you and prepare the bed in the other room. Agreed ? » she continued while designating the bath tub. Ibrahim didn’t say anything but decided that it was better than talking right now. She got back to her bedroom and got a grey t shirt and a new jogger. After preparing the bed in the other guest room, she got back to the bathroom and waited in front of the door to hear the shower going off. After a few seconds, she knocked at the door and reached to him the clothes without looking inside. « I’ll wait for you outside. » she said. Ibrahim knew there was no point fighting against Mrs Bardin, she would be stronger anyway. He would have wanted to say that he could go to sleep on his own but she would prove him wrong and would won in the end. He got out of the bathroom, ashamed. « I didn’t know where to put the wet clothes… I just left them in the tub. » he said, embarrassed. « You did well. I’ll put them in the washing machine, don’t worry. » she said, reassuring. « It’s on the second floor, second door on your left. » she indicated before following him in the stairs. Just like before, she tucked him into bed. But this time, Ibrahim was well awoke. Reddening, he couldn’t look at his teacher’s face. « Will you be okay in this room ? » she asked. « Yes, it’s fine. Thank you. » he replied in a whisper. « If you need anything, I’m just downstairs, okay ? » « I won’t be needing anything. But okay. » he said, evasive. « You don’t feel sick anymore ? Do you need a bucket, just in case ? » she asked, worried. « No, I’ll be fine, the nausea is over now. I’m sorry, by the way… » he said. « Don’t apologize, Ibrahim. I’m sorry for you. But, in the end, it’s a fair punishment. » she said. « Okay… I have to tell you, even if you won’t like it, that if you have another accident and wet the bed before you get up in the morning, you should not freak out. You had a lot to drink tonight and you are very tired, it would be a normal reaction. So if you wake up with your pants wet, I don’t want you to feel bad, okay ? » she continued. « I… Er… It won’t happen again, madam. » he replied, turning over in his bed. « Okay, kid. But even if it happens, it’s no big deal. » she insisted. « Good night, my dear. » she whispered while getting up. Before she closed the door behind her she heard a soft « Thank you, Mrs Bardin ». The morning after, Ann woke Ibrahim up in a dry bed. She sat down on the bed, next to the boy’s head, and softly shook his shoulder. « Ibrahim, it’s time to wake up. » she whispered. As though she expected him to stand up quickly and deny everything that happened last night, she saw him bury his head in her lap and heard him mutter « Just a little more time, please ». Not believing what was happening, Ann’s breath stopped for a few seconds. Ibrahim just placed his head on her lap as if he was a little kid. She hesitated to shake him stronger. But as she looked intensely at her student’s face she realized that he looked perfectly serene. It was the first time she had seen this look on his face. She decided that she couldn’t take that peace from him just now. A bit embarrassed, she put her hand in Ibrahim’s hair and pet his back repetitively with the other. Strangely, she felt that these simple moves were calming her as well. But after a minute or so, she noticed Ibrahim’s eyes opening wider and wider until he stepped back quickly in his bed. « Sorry ! I don’t know what took me… I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t realize, I was half asleep. It was totally inappropriate, pardon me. » he said frenetically. « Calm down, Ibrahim. When we look back at the events from the night before, a hug is the least that could have happened. So, relax, everything is fine. » she said, reassuring. « Do you feel better this morning ? » she asked, trying to ease the discomforting atmosphere. « I’m fine, thank you. I don’t really remember what happened last night but I’m sure it’s for the best. » he lied, hoping that he could just forget what happened. « I’ll be there to make you remember, don’t worry. » she said, understanding easily that the boy was trying to forget. He blushed and lowered his head. « But nothing that happened last night will change my look on you, Ibrahim. I don’t value you less than yesterday, okay ? No matter your grades, your drinking, your sickness, your crying or your wetting, I won’t appreciate you less. » she said. The boy couldn’t answer, feeling tears coming up in his eyes. « Mmh. » he murmured. « Your clothes are in the bathroom and the breakfast is downstairs. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. » she said before getting out of the room. Until Ibrahim joined her in the kitchen, Ann thought about the situation. She couldn’t accept to let this go as if nothing never happened. Now that she had seen the boy in pain, she just couldn’t turn back to being just his teacher and ignore his evident need of attention and care. She knew his own personal situation : supporting parents that couldn’t get a job in the country, being the only reference point and hope of the family, having to confront everyone’s expectations… But she couldn’t just tell him to stay here whenever he felt like it. Ibrahim, as proud as he was, would never accept such a proposal. But, in the other hand, she knew, as proud as she was, that she wouldn’t accept to do nothing either. As she was pouring a glass of orange juice and giving it to Ibrahim, it hit her. She found a way for Ibrahim to accept. She sat down in front of the silent boy and looked at him seriously. « I thought about something this morning. I know you have your basketball practice every Wednesday night here. And we finish school at 2 o’clock on that day. What would you think about english lessons at my house every Wednesday before your practice ? That way you can progress on your english and prepare for the CGSE’s exam. » she asked, as lightly as she could. There was a moment of deep silence. He was looking at her with perplexity. She knew at his look that he understood clearly that this proposition had very little to do with his grades. But then, in a second, his look changed and she could notice some relief in his eyes. He quickly lowered his head with indifference and said « If you think that it could help me progress, then yes. ». « Then it’s a done deal. » she said, smiling. « Okay. » he said, not looking at her. They didn’t talk about last night that morning and went to school as if nothing ever happened. But in English class that morning, she noticed her smile was different. As if he was finally allowed to smile without any fear to let go. And his eyes… He turned his eyes to her during class that morning with a look that seemed to say « thank you ». Until the end of high school, Ibrahim had never forgot his weekly afternoon with Mrs Bardin. Afternoon that sometimes lasted through the morning after. And, as though he never admitted why, he always wet the bed when he was sleeping over at her house. And, as though he would never admit why that also, he always felt very happy when he could see Mrs Bardin’s face looking at him with love through his shameful tears. She and him never talked about his Wednesday’s accidents as an issue. Ibrahim didn’t understand how his teacher could allow such a mess, but in the end they went along with this habit as if it was a normal routine. He received the congratulations from the principal for his CGSE’s results at the end of the year and finally chose a university that was located in Mrs Bardin’s city. Why ? His pride wouldn’t let him say but his Wednesday’s afternoons and nights talked for him.
  8. I was so frustrated after reading your last story that I looked for unknown ones on your profile (and got a chance to reread all my favorites for hours, thank you for my extreme lack of sleep !). And what a joy it is to come across this unknown one ! It is a marvelous story (especially the last chapter !!) ! Thank you so much for creating such amazing realities, you make me dream (and that's priceless).
  9. What a great story ! You are very talented ! I can't wait to read your next story.
  10. Thank you so much for your comment Melificentfan ! I'm very glad you liked it !
  11. Hello everyone, here's a one shot story (that might be continued, depending on your interest in it, my motivation, and mostly time...) that I hope you will like ! A story between a teacher and a student, again (yes, it is my passion !). Let me know if you want this to continue (I have a following part in mind but I'm not sure it's needed). Enjoy ! The mansard room As she looked around her office one last time to check that everything was back in order, Miss Rivers congratulated herself for making this small room such a warmfull place to discuss and study. Added to the ordinary teacher’s desk and chair, there was a large and colourfull carpet, a confortable sofa, two old and patched armchairs and a pile of cushions around a small low table ; on the walls there were two large bookshelves – filled to the brim – and a multitude of pictures, photographs and poems were sticked all around the room. There was a small closet and an only little window. The place was quite dark because of the masard ceiling and the lack of windows but Miss Rivers added a few coloured lamps to make the room welcoming and warm. Unlike her colleagues who prefered to use their personal office as a private place to grade their students’ papers and prepare their lectures qietly, the young teacher chose to share this room with her students so that they could continue to study in a more relaxed atmosphere. She was an english teacher and was teaching a CGSE’s students this year. Her office was mostly dedicated to them because of their important final exam. But this place was also always open for students who needed to talk. She was not a nurse, and made that very clear to her students at the beginning of the year, but she experienced herself some dark moments when she was in school and she never found someone who talk to back then. The funny thing is that she absolutely hated school when she was a student. But she actually discovered the desire to teach when she was experimenting difficulties as a student. Miss Rivers always told herself that if she was not okay with a situation then she would have to try to change it. That’s how she became a teacher, that and her love for literature. Books saved her life and she was absolutely certain that they could save a lot of lost students like she was. As she locked her office’s door, she thought about how she was considered around the school. She arrived two years ago in Harvis school in Porthsmouth and from the very beginning she shooked things up around the place. She was quite unconventional but if it bothered her colleagues at first she was soon respected by her pairs for her resluts with the students. She had an original way to teach, mostly based on discussions, debates and role plays, but she was a very hard worker and everybody could see it. Her students generally loved her because she was very dedicated to them. She didn’t only deeply wanted them to success in school (and tried her best to make them be better everyday) she also wanted, enven deeplier, them to be happy in their life. Her success came from three attributes : to be always optimistic, demanding and strict. As she drove back to her house, she thought about the day. Everything went well, her students worked intensely and she was respecting her schedule : the study of The King Lear was almost finished and they soon would start the reading of Jane Eyre. But she noticed something a bit unusual that day. Victor, one of her CGSE’s students, was working at her office after class with a few students and, as she was grading papers, she noticed that he still looked very lost. He was a transferred student who moved in Porthsmouth two months after the beginning of school, a few weeks earlier. Miss Rivers never had a chance to have a long talk with him and didn’t feel it was necessary until today. He was a serious student and had generally good grades. Until now she thought it was absolutely normal to feel a bit lost in this new town and new school. But students of the class welcomed him very well and he seemed to have made some friends already. However, today he looked distraught. She wanted to talk to him about it tonight but she had to leave the office with some students to sign a paper in the headmaster’s office and when she came back, he was already gone. The weird thing was that Victor seemed to have been waiting for her, letting his friends go back to their home while he was still sitting on the sofa. Miss Rivers was a bit worried. He apparently wanted to talk to her about something and finally decided to run away from her… She felt a pinch of guilt in her stomach. She felt that she had neglected the boy, stressing him about the months he had lost and that he had to catch up rather than seriously asking him how he was feeling. As she arrived home, she promised herself to have a private chat with Victor after class the day after. She woke up very early the morning after. As usual, she forgot some papers she promised herself she would grade for today’s class. She was used to go to school a few hours in advance, she loved to look at the sun rise up from her little window’s office. When she arrived at school, she enjoyed the silence floating along the empty corridors and regain happily the third and last floor of the building, where her small office was situated. She looked for her keys into her handbag and opened the door. As she turned on the yellow lamp on her desk, she startled as she noticed a large form on the sofa, hidden under a blanket (a blanket she kept in the closet for cold evenings). She tried to calm her heartbeats while stepping slowly to the sofa and almost stratled again as she recognized her student Victor’s hair and forehead. Neither the sound of the door opening nor the light on seemed to have waken him up. She frowned and stopped her instinctive hand from wakening the boy. How did he ended up here ? How could she had not noticed her presence after locking up last night ? Why didn’t he say he was still in the room ? Did he tell his parents he wasn’t going home ? She could not stop the flow of questions. This was the first time something like this ever happened to her. What should she do ? Realizing that his family could be sickly worried by now, she stopped thinking and decided to act quickly. With deep precaution, she kneeled next to the sofa and put a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. « Victor ? » she asked softly. « Victor ? You have to wake up. » The boy frowned but didn’t open his eyes. She shook gently his shoulder and repeated her request. The young boy opened his eyes and Miss Rivers could notice a glow of panick in his gaze as he looked at her. He quickly closed his eyes firmly and moaned with distress. « Victor, look at me. What are you doing here ? » she asked with incomprehension. Victor didn’t answer. It seemed to Miss Rivers that he simply couldn’t talk. And before she could insist, she saw her student hide his face behind his hands. He was bursting into tears, violent sobs shaking him up. « It’s all right, Victor. I’m not mad at you. Calm down, dear. » she said, trying to make the kid stop crying. She was completely unarmed facing this15 years’ old boy crying like a little child. She faced a lot of tears since she started teaching but she never exeperienced this kind of cry. It was far from the usual break up sorrow or the usual fight between friends’ tears. No, this one was deep and juvenile. And she didn’t know how to deal with this. « Victor, you have to calm down, everything is fine. I promise. » she insisted. But it didn’t work. The boy was still crying, his face red and wet from the tears. As she was going to give up and stand up to call his parents, he grabbed the hand she had layed down on his shoulder. She suddenly understood that, for the first time in her life, words would not be enough to help or save her student. « Come here, my dear. I’m not going anywhere. » she said as she sat on the sofa and opened her arms. The boy let himself completely go into his teacher’s arms, but as soon as Miss Rivers hands touched his back, Victor fell back onto the sofa, hidding his face in his hands. It took a second to Miss Rivers to understand the sudden change in the boy’s attitude. She looked at her fingers with incomprehension as she noticed they were wet. The boy had peed himself. As he went to school this morning, Victor had decided he would not go back to his house, never. His dad had made the decision to come to Porthsmouth, Victor didn’t say anything, agreeing to do anything that could make his dad normal again. Despite the difficulty to leave his friends, his school and his house, he was willing to help his family to become a normal one. He was working hard at school to catch up from his late arrival, he was making new friends and was always smiling at home even when there was absolutely no reason to. As usual, he was okay to be the pillar of the family. But now, his dad went too far… He found his father in the basement drinking whiskey again, last night. He promised Victor he would stop. The teen was not okay to be the only one doing effort. He felt like his dad was giving up on him, again. So Victor made up his mind as he went to school this morning. He would drop off school to work and become independent. He had no need for an alcoholic father and made very clear these past six years that he was absolutely able to take care of his own. To make sure that nobody would have a clue about his plans of leaving school and his house, he acted normal all day. He worked seriously, ate at the cafeteria for lunch and even laughed with some friends. But he made a mistake by letting his friends convince him to come and work at Miss Rivers office after school… Miss Rivers was the only teacher he ever really liked. She was the only one who gave him the impression that she really looked at him, not only as a student but as a person. He never had been to Miss Rivers office and knew it was his last chance to experience the warm little office that evening. When he entered the room he felt a huge sensation of warmth in his stomach. The place was so welcoming, colourfull and soft. He suddenly felt his determination to leave the school melt. He followed his comrades and sat down at the sofa after greeting Miss Rivers, already installed at her desk. The group of young people was studying quietly while the teacher was grading papers. Victor was finding very difficult to play his role of normal student. He couldn’t concentrate, his mind was filled with doubts. His friends didn’t realize his distress, he didn’t have to worry. But as he rose his head from his blank piece of paper he realized that Miss Rivers was looking directly at him. Her gaze was full of worry and compassion. After an interminable gaze, she finally smiled at him with an incredible softness. Victor could not repress his cheeks to blush a little as he lowered his head. He had the horrible impression that she found out what he was planning to do… It seemed that nothing could be hidden from Miss Rivers, as if she was able to feel people’s emotions. As time went by, Victor realized that he couldn’t go back to his house to look at his dad getting drunk. He just couldn’t. He would have to find a place to stay. Anywhere but with this shameless alcoholic, he said to himself. He didn’t think about Miss Rivers’ office until the last minute. At 6 o’clock, when his friends were closing their backpacks to go home, it hit him. Why wouldn’t he stay here ? He could wait in the closet for Miss Rivers to go home and get out of the office early in the morning. No one would ever know he was here ! He closed his backpack as well but stayed in the office, telling his friends he wanting to talk to Miss Rivers in private. His friends didn’t insist and went out, accompanied by Miss Rivers who had to do administrative stuff. Victor thought it was a perfect timing and a a unique chance. He waited to hear the voices of his friends and teacher disappear in the stairs before taking his bag and coat to go hide in the closet. It was a very small one and even with his flexible body, Victor had to fold himself. He could feel his heart beat fast. What if Miss Rivers opens the closet ? What if she decides to sleep here ? He asked himself. He couldn’t bare the humiliation of Miss Rivers finding him in here nor would he survive a night in this akward and painful position. He retained his breath and tried not to make a noise as he heard Miss Rivers coming back. He could hear her preparing her satchel and putting the room back in order. After a second of silence he heard the office door closing. But then he heard a noise he didn’t expect, the sound of a key turning into a keyhole. He never expected the office could be locked. Miss Rivers repeated everyday that his office was always open… How could he have been so naive ? Of course it could be locked, it was just a figure of speech ! He bit his lips as he realized in what mess he was. He couldn’t get out. And Miss Rivers would see him in the morning. How could he have been so damn stupid ? After a moment of self flogging, he decided to get out of his painful hiding place and went back to the room. Looking around he thought that if it was his last time in this school at least it was the best place he would have been sleeping in for years. He decided to do his homework and tried not to think about his growing anger. He finished a bottle of water that was in his bag and tried to convince himself that water was filling the stomach as much as a plate of pasta. When he finished his homework it was 7 o’clock. He went through the bookshelves and tried to find a book to think about something else but his rumbling stomach, Moby Dick. He got a blanket out of the closet, lied down on the sofa and started to read. The book seemed to be fascinating because Victor didn’t even feel his bladder hurting until a rather desperate point. After 72 pages, he realized that he was moving his legs nervously. He stopped reading and felt a hard pinch in his bladder. He really had to pee and didn’t even realize it. Or maybe he just ignored it because he knew there was no way out. He looked at his watch, 8.33. His best solution was to try to fall asleep, that way he wouldn’t feel the pain and could wait until the morning after. He installed himself confortably in the sofa and went back to his reading. When he felt his eyelids fall, he turned off the light, put a hand around his crotch and let himself go through the night. Victor was a very mature kid for his age, he knew it. He had to face so many traumas and difficulties since his mom died six years ago that he was almost an adult now. But when he woke up in sweat, his hands desperately grabbing his crotch, his heart beating fast, he didn’t feel adult at all. On the contrary, he felt like a very little child. A rapid glance at his watch made him realize that it was only 1 o’clock. The room around him was dark and filled with silence. He sat back on the sofa and turned on the light beside him. « Fuck ! » he said, desperate. He felt a small patch of pee on his briefs as he woke up. He couldn’t admit that he had peed his pants during his sleep. And that apparently he wouldn’t be able to hold it long. After a moment of fidgeting on the sofa, he decided to walk around the room. He had hope that movement would calm down his urgent need. But as soon as he got up on his feet he felt a few drops coming down his penis and wetting his briefs. He moaned and squeezed his penis tighter. He sat back on the sofa, feeling incapable to put a foot in front of the other. He was keeping his legs crossed and both his hands were clutching his penis. Victor was still hoping that he could wait for Miss Rivers returns. He was absolutely incapable of picturing him having an accident in his pants, it was morifying. But he could feel his legs shaking and tears coming up in his eyes. He was feeling so weak right now. « Aaah ! » Victor cried as he felt a long spurt coming out of his penis and wetting his bum. He could feel his briefs completely soaked and his trousers getting wet. « Oh no ! The sofa ! I wet the sofa ! » he murmured, horrified. He let go of one hand to touch the sofa and check the mess he had done but as soon as he got off his penis he felt a succession of spurts coming out. Pssss. Pssss. Pssssss. He could hear the hissing noise of his pee wetting his bum and his upper thighs. He was soaked and so was the sofa. But apparently his bladder wasn’t done yet. He tried to regain control and grabbed his penis with violence, his legs moving furiously. He suddenly realized that he had an empty bottle of water in his bag ! If only he could stop himself from peeing in his pants and empty his bladder in the bottle, Miss Rivers would see just a little accident. At that moment, it appeared to Victor that it would be less morifying to have peed himself a little than completely. As if it would show that he was not a complete little kid but only half one... The only problem was that in order to get his bag, he would have to let go of his crotch again… Would he managed to do it without wetting himself completely ? He asked himself with worry. He tried to detached one hand of his crotch, finger by finger. When he arrived at the middle finger, Victor felt a long spurt telling him he could not win the war against his bladder. His trousers were now wet on half his thighs. Letting go a tear of rage he realized that he had to get his legs back into the sofa if he didn’t want to wet the carpet too… By doing so he was saying an absolute goodbye to his empty bottle and by that an absolute goodbye to his pride. It was so humiliating to prepare himself to pee in the bed. But he had to face it, he couldn’t do anything more. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let go of his crotch. He couldn’t bare the idea of peeing himself volontarily. He kept his legs crossed and his hands tightened as he felt spurts multiplying, longer and longer. After every spurt, Victor squizzed stronger his penis but in vain. He could not hold it any longer. He was peeing himself as a little child. After a few minutes of fight against his need, a final long and continued spurt of pee went down his penis, his bum, his legs, his feet. During the last minute of peeing, Victor cried silently, trembling in shame. The battle against his desperation lasted 15 minutes. 15 minutes of torture. The result was a wet teenager and a wet sofa. Victor couldn’t believe what just happened. The morning before, he was proudly saying that he was absolutely capable of being independent and there he was, crying and trembling in his own pee. He had peed himself ! He could not believe that he acted as a little boy. He acted as if he was 9 again. He acted as if his mother would come and tell him « it’s all right »… After a long time of crying, he finally fell asleep, forgetting where he was and what he would have to confront in the morning. His night battle had left him so tired that he didn’t hear his teacher coming into the room at 6.30 this morning nor was he disturbed by the light on. It was only when he heard Miss Rivers’ soft voice calling his name that he realized where he was and what happened. As soon as he met Miss Rivers gaze, he closed his eyes in shame and apprehension. It hit him, he had peed himself last night. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He couldn’t bare the shame in front of his favourite teacher. He felt his tears coming out, sobs hurting his throat. It was the first time he felt so weak since his mum had passed away. But when he felt Miss Rivers getting away from him, he got so afraid that she would never came back that he couldn’t refrain himself from grabbing his hand. Where was his independence, for god’s sake ? He asked himself while firmly taking his teacher’s hand. Not only his pants were a mess, his head too. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was doing the opposite of what he wanted to. He wished to be an adult but acted like a child… He felt himself fall desperately into his teacher’s arms. But as soon as he felt his teacher’s hands around him, he remebered his noticeable accident. Feeling absolutely mortified, he fell back into the sofa, hiding himself with his hands. She would know now. She would know that her 15 years’old student had peed himself on her lovely sofa. After a few seconds of silence, Victor felt arms grabbing him. Miss Rivers had grabbed him and was hugging him softly, repeating the same wonderful sentence. « It’s all right, dear. It’s over. » They stayed in the soft silence only interrupted by Miss Rivers’ voice, repeating the same sentence over and over until Victor’s tears dry completely. (To be continued or not – if I have the time and motivation...)
  12. Thank you so much Keita123 for your nice review, it makes me so happy ! I'm so glad that you could see yourself in Evan's character. I hope you found someone to tell your own story of your near accident at your exam and that this person told you 'it would have been okay if you had peed yourself that day'. Thanks again for the nice things you said !
  13. Hello everyone ! This is my first one shot story. I finished to write my fic "Someone who cares" yesterday and I decided to write some one shot stories (this way I'm sure to finish them on time !). This one focuses on the bed wetting and pee accident of a 14 years old teenager. He wets himself in front of his examiner. You would have understand it, I love teacher-student stories ! Let me know if you liked this one ! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Exam Evan Mac Cormac was a 14 year old brilliant student from a small village called The Three Flowers in the beautiful countryside of the Somerset. His teachers, followed by his parents, convinced him to enter the famous Stone Bridge high school in London to get a chance to enter a good university after graduation. Evan was happy to have a chance to leave his little village. He liked his family and his teachers but he never knew how to make friends at school. Everybody was intimidated by his capacities and intelligence and they didn’t want to get too close to him. Maybe because they were afraid that intelligence could be contagious, bitterly thought Evan. The truth was that Evan was considered as a freak in his village. Every young man around him was destined to be a farmer, like their father. But Evan was not suit for this way of life. His happiness was in his books and his writings, that was all. Even his entire family, his mum and dad and his six brothers and sisters, looked at him as he was a freak. Of course they were all very proud of his bright brain but they never understood him. They never mocked him neither they tried to stop him from studying but they somewhat always avoided his presence. Therefore, when Mrs. Jones offered him to take an entrance examination at the Bridge Stone school in London, everybody felt relieved. He wouldn’t be in their way of life and they would stop looking at him as if he came from another planet. The day before the exam went like ever other day of the week : they all ate soup at the diner table and he went reading beside the fire place before going to bed while his mother was doing the dishes, his dad was saying good night to his cows and his brothers and sisters were playing some game. He was not unhappy at all, he was used to this repartition of roles. But for a second he hoped his parents would say something special on this special night. He yelled an overall goodnight before climbing the stairs to his room. He was lucky, he had a room of his own. His brothers and sisters were sharing three rooms to let him have his quiet space. He knew he was lucky, somehow. He went to bed feeling stressed about the day after. He looked at his books one last time and turned the light off early to have a good night sleep. Unfortunately, he was agitated all night. He had no idea what the school looked like. Or even London. What if he got lost and couldn’t pass the exam ? What if he took the wrong train and ended up in Scotland ? What if his alarm clock stopped working during the night and he didn’t wake up in time tomorrow morning ? On these haunting ‘what if’ he finally fell asleep. His night was filled with nightmares and he woke up the next morning feeling dizzy and sweaty. Or at least he thought it was sweat. He took a worried look at his sheets and realized he had wet the bed. His t-shirt and pants were soaked. How had pee himself… He had an accident ? How could he have wet the bed like a baby ? He was 14 years old for god sake ! Evan was panicking. The large puddle of pee in his bed was showing him that he was not an adult yet. He somehow wished that someone would come and reassure him as he felt some tears forming in his eyes. He had an accident and he was all alone. He panicked for a second that people would mock him if they saw what happened, but he remembered that he was alone in his room and that nobody would have the idea to come to wake up this morning. Maybe it was finally a good thing that his family didn’t really care about him. He got up quickly and got off his wet pyjamas and took off the wet sheets from his bed. He took his dirty laundry with him under the shower and washed them as he cleaned himself. After putting on his best clothes – a pair of beige pants, a white shirt and a dark blue cardigan sweater – he got out of the bathroom. He spread his laundry on his cupboard and on his window so it would be dry when he would be back from London at the end of the day. He tried to forget his shameful accident and to think only about the exam coming up. He got out of the room and found a plate of bread and jam on the table. His mother must have prepared his breakfast before going to bed the night before. She remembered, finally. Evan ate only one slice of bread, he was not hungry. On the other hand, he drunk two glasses of orange juice to wake him up. He gave himself his final look before going to the train station : his blue eyes looked a bit tired and his face’s fine lines underlined his vulnerable look. He noticed that he should have cut his curly brown hair and tried to make some order in it with his fingers. Hopefully he would wake up in the train and his face would loose this childish look, he thought. He thought that his pee accident was marked all on his face. He looked like an ashamed kid. He silently closed the door behind him and walked toward the train station. It was a thirty minutes walk through the countryside. Evan liked this road in the early morning; the sun was getting up but everything around him seemed to be still asleep. There was only one platform and one train waiting in the small train station. Evan entered in the train and took a seat by the window. He checked one last time that he got his London maps with the direction’s instructions given by Mrs Jones. After a few minutes, the train started. The trip was one hour and a half long and during all this time he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened last night. He was completely disoriented by his pee accident. He had never been a normal child: he grew up quickly and became independent very young. He stopped peeing himself (day and night) at the age of 2 years old and had never experienced this kind of accident before. Therefore he couldn’t stop wondering how it could have happened just before his examination. He was so used to grow up and to be more and more independent that he couldn’t bare this experience of regression. He could feel some tears coming up in his eyes at this thoughts and tried to stop thinking about it. He couldn’t behave like a child. He took one of his book and forced himself to read and tried to focus on his examination. When he arrived in King’s Cross station, he couldn’t believe the mess around him. Masses of people hurrying, screaming, laughing. He suddenly felt his head spin. He was not used to that kind of traffic and he had the feeling that the crowd was going to crush him as soon as he would get out of the train. Ignoring his heart beating faster and faster, Evan got out of the train and tried to find the train station exit. He couldn’t let himself intimidated, he had to be at his exam on time. He finally found the stairs leading to the streets. He pressed his bag against him and almost run to escape the wave of people surrounding him. When he finally got out of the station, he breathed heavily. He had to calm down before facing the examiner. He looked at his map and followed the instructions. He didn’t look up from his map, feeling on the urge to have a panic attack. He was surrounded by streets he had never seen and people in London looked so different from the countryside population that it made him feel completely losr. He thought that he would have love to have an adult which, for once, would have led him to his destination. But his father and mother would have reacted the same way as he did right now. The Three Flowers was a lovely village but it was far more different than London. He tried to vanished these childish thoughts and remembered that he was almost an adult in his family; he had to act like it. After what seemed an eternity to Evan, he finally arrived to the school. He faced the building with complete admiration. The school took place in an old Victorian manor. The teen could noticed so many details on the walls. It sure felt very different from his home school. He was finally pulled out from his fascination by a man who looked very strict. He must have been around 35 or 40 years. His dark hair seemed long for a man – under the ears -, it was cut very strictly and it made his green eyes darker than they originally were. He was dressed in dark colours and had a dark brown satchel. He seemed very tall to Evan, who was quite small for his age, and the man thin body underlined that impression of height. “Are you Mr. Evan Mc Cormac ?” the man asked politely. “Yes, sir. I come for the entrance examination.” Evan responded, feeling a pinch in his bladder due to his growing stress. “I am Pr. Guilbert. I will be your examiner today and I will also supervise your preparation. Please, follow me.” added the teacher strictly. Evan followed the man through the corridors, feeling his stress getting higher and higher. This teacher didn’t look nice at all and the teen was suddenly sure to fail. It was easy to feel important in a small village where education was not the priority, but in a school like this one, Evan felt like he was nothing. Finally, Pr. Guilbert opened a door and let Evan entered first. In the room was only one huge desk at the front and a ridiculously small one in the middle. As he entered he could feel his palm getting sweaty and his bladder pinching furiously. “Take your seat, Evan.” invited the teacher by pointing the small desk. “I will explain to you the examination’s instructions”. He gave the boy a bunch of blank paper and a pen. “You won’t have access to your bag during the exam, please give it to me”. He ordered strictly. As he took the boy’s bag, he could see his multiple London maps and couldn’t prevent a smile, which he hid from the student. “You have to listen very carefully the instructions because I won’t repeat them. The examination is separated in two parts: one is dedicated to writing, the other one is an oral discussion. You have one hour and thirty minutes to prepare the first one and thirty minutes for the interview. Is that clear ?” the man asked. “Yes, professor.” replied Evan. “For the writing part, you will have to submit an organized essay responding to the following question : Is there a better place to learn than school ? Beware, in this essay we don’t want you to defend what you think your examiner wants to read but what you really think about the subject. Is that clear ?” he asked. “Y… Yes, sir.” answered Evan, stressed by the man’s strict tone. “Concerning the second part of the exam, I will ask you questions and examine your capacity to formulate a clear and pertinent response as well as your capacity to extend the question. Now, do you have any question ?” he finally asked. “Yes… Is it allowed to get out of the room for a break ?” Evan asked worried about his more and more frequent pinches in his bladder. “Mr. Mc Cormac, no you can’t go out of the room for a break.” said the teacher, insisting with irony on the last term. “I sincerely hope that two and a half hours of work will not be too much to endure.” he finally added, sincerely ironic now. “No. That’s not what I meant, sir...” tried Evan, but the teacher had already turn back. As Mr. Guilbert sat behind the huge desk, he looked at his watch. After a few seconds he said, “You may begin”. Evan decided not to think, even for a second, about his bladder. He started to write frantically on his paper to figure out a structure for his essay. After half an hour he had found all the essay’s structure and arguments and all he had to do was to develop them. When he switched papers to write his development, he realized that he was constantly moving his legs. He hadn’t realized until now that his legs were testifying his need to pee. Even if his mind had been able to switch of the pee signal, his body was still focused on his bladder. He decided to ignore it and started to write his essay. But at the end of the introduction, he felt his bladder pinch so hard that he had to stop writing. He crossed his legs, furiously trying to make his bladder stop annoying him. He took his pen back in his hand and wrote his first argument. When he finished this first argument, he was quite proud of himself. He had great examples about learning in nature. But then he realized that his left hand was intensely grabbing his crotch. Hopefully, the desk was not showing his legs to the teacher. He could feel his bladder crying for relief. But he knew he couldn’t ask for the loo. He had to endure this horrible pain until the end of the exam. He tightened his hand to his crotch and started his second argument. He managed to finish it without any accident but he had to take a break in his writing to put his second hand on his crotch. He had to pee so bad that he wasn’t sure now that he would get out of the room with his briefs dry. After a few seconds moving back and forth on his chair, he noticed the teacher’s eyes fixed on him. His raised left eyebrow convinced Evan to get back to his writing. With regret he removed his right hand from his crotch and started writing his final argument. But he had to stop in the middle of it to tighten his penis. He had felt some pee dribbled through his penis. He could feel that his briefs were a bit wet in the front. He tried to stop the pee but he could still feel some drops coming out. After what seemed an eternity, his bladder seemed to regain a little bit of control. He finished his last argument and went on to the conclusion. He focused on that very important part of the essay : he had to convince his reader that his development was coherent. He smiled as he put down his pen, maybe he didn’t completely fail finally. But, if he didn’t failed his essay, he actually failed his bladder. Before he could realize it, he felt a spurt coming out of his penis. Now his briefs were soaked. He looked down his pants and was relieved that it didn’t show. But he blamed himself for wearing beige… What a stupid idea. He put back his second hand behind his legs and tried to prevent any spurts of pee for coming down. His bladder was seriously aching and he could feel his hands trembling. He knew he was on the urge to have an accident on his chair, in front of Pr. Guilbert. He suddenly had a great idea: take of his cardigan and tie it around his hips. That way, even if the pee would show a patch, the cardigan would hide it, Evan thought. But as soon as he let go of his crotch to take of his cardigan he felt another spurt coming out and wetting his briefs. He could feel this one was bigger than the first one. When he looked down at his pants he was horrified to notice an evident small patch of pee in the front of his pants. He quickly tied his cardigan and made sure that the leaves would hide the wet spot. He put back his hands between his crotch and prayed for his bladder to be patient. He could feel his face reddening with shame and effort. He wanted to cry so hard right now, he wanted someone to take him to the loo and tell him it was all right. But he was in a classroom with a dreadful teacher who wouldn’t even notice that he was suffering. After this moment of despair, he tried to reason himself. He was a 14 years old teenager, he would not pee his pants ! He remembered last night’s accident and suddenly felt like a very little kid. How could he wet his pants again ? Before he could tell himself more, the teacher called him at his desk. He knew that getting up of his chair without wetting wouldn’t be easy… Indeed, as soon as he got up he felt a small spurt of pee wetting his briefs. He couldn’t hold his crotch now that he was facing the teacher. Tortured, Evan walked to the front of the room. Every step was a nightmare: he could feel spurts coming out. He could almost hear the hissing sound echoing in the silenced room. He couldn’t looked down to see if his pants were showing, but he could definitely feel the front of them getting wetter and wetter. But the teacher’s face showed nothing. He sat in front of the man with relief. He handed his paper and immediately put his hands back to his crotch. He glanced at his pants and noticed with fear that there was a large patch of pee on the front. Fortunately, the cardigan seemed to have hid it from the teacher’s gaze. Evan convinced himself that he would to regain control after he would be sitting, but he was clearly absolutely desperate now. He couldn’t help but fidgeting on his chair. Despite the teacher despising glance at him, he had no choice but to bounce evidently. The teacher asked a first question. It was not a too complicated one for Evan. But his answer was confused. He couldn’t speak properly in his state. He kept trembling and his mouth was completely dry. Before he could finish his last sentence, he felt a huge spurt wetting his bum. Oh no ! His bum was getting wet. He could not hide his accident from his examiner anymore. He had to pee so bad… He bit his lips in pure despair and finished his sentence with pain. He could see his teacher writing down some remarks on a sheet of paper. Before the man begin to formulate his second question, Evan felt a succession of spurts coming out, wetting his bum and the beginning of his legs. “Oh no… No… I’m gonna… I’m… Pee...” he murmured to himself. He could hear the hissing sound of his pee coming out. He furiously hold his penis to stop the flow. He felt his face reddening and tears filling up his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to hide this awful accident to anyone now. He was peeing in his pants. “What did you say ?” asked the teacher, clearly worried now as he saw the kid’s blurred eyes. “I’m… sorry, sir.” said Evan, feeling the warmth of another long spurt. The boy was now clearly crying, not able to keep his tears from falling down his red cheeks. “Don’t cry, Evan. You’re doing just fine, you don’t need to worry.” said the man, very softly now. Mr. Guilbert didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know why the teenager suddenly fell apart. He seemed to have written a good essay and his first answer was good. Was he too harsh on him earlier ? “Do you want to take a break, Evan ?” he asked gently. “No… It’s...” Another long spurt stopped him in his sentence. The pee hadn’t hit the floor yet but he could feel he was completely soaked. “Aaah… It’s too late, sir.” continued the boy, in a sob. “What do you mean it’s too late ? You were doing good so far. What do you need, my boy ?” the man asked, now clearly moved by the boy in front of him. “I need to pee…” answered Evan, feeling completely mortified. “Oh. You can go to the bathroom then. We’ll continue our interview after, all right ?” the man said, surprised but relieved by the triviality of the kid’s need. “I don’t think I can stand up, sir. I can’t hold it...” said the teen. The flow had stopped for now but he knew it would not last. “All right, boy. It’s all right, I’ll help you.” the man said with a smile. He got up quickly and went to the boy’s chair. As he gently hold his arm to help the boy stand up, he saw the huge patch of pee on the front of his pants. “Oh ! You… You already wet your pants, Evan ?” he cried with surprise. “I’m so sorry, sir… I didn’t want to… I couldn’t hold any longer. I tried, I swear !” the boy screamed between his tears. “Okay, boy. It’s all right. I didn’t mean to scold you, I’m sure you did your best to hold it.” the man said gently. “Now, let’s try to hold it a little bit more, all right ?” he asked. Evan nodded. “I’ll hold you, don’t worry. Keep your hands tightened, my boy.” the man continued. Mr. Guilbert placed an arm around the boy’s shoulder and put his hand under Evan’s arm to lift him up. The teacher didn’t realize until now that the teen looked so childlike. He was very small for his age and the man could easily lift him up. They stepped out of the room and took a corridor. They were walking slowly, trying not to hasten the poor boy’s bladder. “No… Oh I can’t. I can’t hold it, sir. Pee… I’m gonna pee.” said the boy frantically. Evan froze and tried to squish his penis to hold his pee but it was too late. They both could hear the hissing sound followed by the sound of pee hitting the floor. “I’m so… I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to.” said Evan, panicking. As he talked, the teacher could still see the stream of pee running through the boy’s pants and hear the hissing noise. He was in shock. He surely didn’t expect that when he woke up this morning. He of course had seen some students’ accidents in the past but not like that. He used to put a firm distance between him and his students. Today, there was no distance at all. The panicked boy’s eyes brought Mr. Guilbert back to reality. He faced the boy and crouched down to confront Evan’s eyes. “Darling, look at me. It’s all right. I know you didn’t want to. I’m sure you tried your best. It’s an accident, dear. Do you understand ?” he said, surprised by his own softness. The boy nodded timidly. “I’m taking you to the infirmary were you will clean up and change your clothes and then we’ll finish our interview, okay ?” he asked, holding the boy’s arm. “I have to clean up the mess, sir.” said Evan. “I will call someone, don’t worry.” he tried to reassure. Mr. Guilbert took place next to the boy again and guided him through the corridors with a hand on his back. After a quick clean up and change of clothes, they took their place back in the classroom. Despite his horrible accident, Evan got in the school. He had weekly meetings with his new English teacher Mr. Guilbert every week. The End
  14. Hello (again) everyone ! I know I said in my previous message that the final chapter wouldn't be out before days but I finally did it all today so here it is. I hope you'll like it. At first I wanted to continue this story for some time but as I can't ever respect a writing schedule, I decided to stop it here. I'll try to do some one shot stories in the future, that way I won't have to worry about the delay. Please tell me what you think about Léopold and Alexander in a review ! Have a good reading ! Chapter 6 Alexander froze as he saw his teacher above his laundry basket. He thought that he could keep this secret for ever. He felt absolutely mortified. He was so ashamed. What would Léopold say? What would he do with him? Léopold defended him a few hours earlier in the audience room back in school, saying that the teen was growing. Now he was facing the truth: Alexander was never growing but only regressing. Alexander could imagine himself in a dormitory filled with abandoned kids, left alone with his own misery. In a second he saw Léopold driving him to the nearest orphanage, not willing to have to face a little brat’s pee issues. He could barely hear his teacher saying “We need to talk, my boy”. He was blinded by his own fear and disappointment. Before he could even realize it he was running out the room, running out the house, running out the neighborhood, running out nowhere. He just couldn’t stop running from himself. He had to erase him from this world. He had to erase all the memories of this life he had been living with his teacher. Nothing ever happened. His teacher’s love never existed. Mr. Blanchot learned to love a lie, not him, not Alexander the little-boy-who-peed-his-pants. His teacher only loved an accident, not a permanent Alexander. The teen didn’t see where he was running to, he was just running away. Around him he could see streets multiplying and the sky getting rainy. He was completely lost, for sure. But the boy didn’t care. On the contrary, Alexander was willing to be lost. He wished that nobody could ever find him. Especially not Léopold. Before Léopold could even realize it, the kid was gone. He cried to the boy to come back immediately but Alexander didn’t even turn back. The teen was running out the house with such a determination and speed that the teacher knew there was no point going after him. The boy obviously needed some time on his own. But Léopold was furious. The kid could not just run away to avoid being scolded every time he lied or did something stupid. Plus, it was a school day today. The man didn’t realize how bad the situation was. For Léopold the boy was just too proud to be treated as a kid, too proud to be under his teacher’s care. Indeed Alexander was scared of his teacher. But not to confront a “spank on the bum”, as Léopold thought the boy was, but because he thought the adult would not want him anymore. Léopold decided to wait for the boy’s return, trying not to get too mad. As he called the school to prevent his and Alexander’s absence for the day, he remembered the school nurse. He asked the administration to pass her on the phone. After a few seconds, a sweet voice answered. “Hello ?” said Laura, the school nurse. “Hello Laura, it’s Léopold, the french teacher.” said the man. “Hello Léopold.” she responded, “I heard that you are in charge of Alexander now and that the audience went well yesterday. That’s great !” she said with a smile. “Yes, thank you. I’m actually calling to talk about Alexander. I noticed yesterday that you seem to know him very well. Am I wrong ?” he asked. “Well, I don’t know if I know him that well because he remains silent most of the time, but I see him almost everyday at the infirmary.” she said. “Almost everyday ?” replied Léopold who could not integrate that the peeing issues were so frequent despite his discovery in the laundry basket, “Could you tell me why ?” “Well… Alexander asked me to keep our meetings between him and me, Léopold, and I have to respect the confidentiality clause...” she answered, split between her wish to respect the boy’s demand and her wish to help Léopold in his new relationship with Alexander. “I understand, Laura. But maybe you could just tell me if it is linked with his peeing issues ?” he asked, willing to understand what was going on in his child’s life. “I couldn’t say the contrary.” she finally said, relieved to hear that Léopold already knew. “Do you mean that Alexander is wetting his pants everyday ?” “It began very vaguely at first. He came to me one or two times the year he arrived in this school, he was 12 then. The next year it was a bit more, like three or four times. And as this year goes by it becomes more and more frequent.” she said. “Did he ever told you why it happens ?” Léopold finally asked. “Never. He doesn’t want to talk about it and I won’t force him. But, as I see it, Alexander never experienced a normal childhood and his vulnerability must express itself this way. It’s funny how as violence grew in himself the frequency of the accidents grew as well.” she added. “He never talked to me, but I can see he’s suffering. It’s such a good thing that you decided to take care of him, Léopold.” she continued, softly. “I don’t know if I’ll succeed...” replied Léopold, feeling guilty. He didn’t even realize what was going on under his own roof. He made the kid run away. He could now feel guilt and fear overwhelming him. “You already did, Léopold.” she said gently. “Well, thank you for answering my questions, Laura. I have to go now.” he finally said, willing to end this horrible conversation. After hanging up the phone, Léopold took his head in his hands with fury. He was now furious at him. How could he have not seen all this ? How could he have let the poor boy deal with all this by himself ? He realized that when the boy would return home, he would have to talk and not only scold the boy for leaving the house. He had to make him comfortable enough to tell him what was wrong. He had to make him feel that he could be a real dad. Not capable to stay with his thoughts, he decided to wash the boy’s dirty clothes before his return. As he took the dirty clothes to the washing machine, he noticed how many boxers and panties were marked by pee. He realized that the boy must have peed himself in his own classroom without him noticing it. He had been so blind! On the other side of town, Alexander was still running, tears running down his cheeks. After about one hour of running through the streets, he arrived at the train station. He stopped and erased the remaining tears. He had to wake up from this nightmare. He had to go anywhere but here. He entered the train station and looked up the departures screen. There was a train going to London leaving in one hour, another one was leaving in 18 minutes to Brixton. He thought about it and realized that he didn’t have enough money to buy a ticket. He didn’t mind defraud but the train controllers would call Léopold and bring him back to his teacher. And he didn’t want to face his teacher ever again. After a few minutes of thinking, he realized that the better place for him now was his first place, the orphanage. He could meet his ‘friends’, people that knew exactly who he was and what he was: a lost cause. At least he would feel home there. He was of course bitter when he thought about coming back to those who made him feel the loneliest boy on earth. But at least they were not lying to him. He was alone and forever will be after what Léopold found out. On the way to the bus stop that would lead him to the orphanage, Alexander came across a grocery store. He came in and decided to celebrate his return home with some whiskey. He entered the shop and went to the alcohol alley and, after looking left to right to be sure that nobody was seeing him, he hided a small bottle of a cheap whiskey into his jacket’s inside pocket. To be sure not to be suspected, he bought a bottle of coke and smiled innocently to the merchant before leaving the store. He took a seat at the end of the bus taking him back to his ‘family’ and began to party. He drunk a few sips and tried not to think about what he was leaving behind him. He tried to forget his teacher’s smile. He tried to escape the man’s hugs he could still feel. He had to accept the reality: he was not made for a normal family. On the other side, he had a family of lost causes waiting for him at the orphanage. As Bryant said, he already had a place where he fitted perfectly well. He looked at his watch, 10:02. He couldn’t help but ask himself what was doing Léopold. He was certainly at school, relieved to be free from the annoyance he was. Léopold had finished the laundry for a while now and was starting to feel sickly worried. He looked at his watch for a hundred time, 10:02. First he was sure the boy would be home about thirty minutes after he left the house. He understood the boy needed some time alone, but now it was not okay. He couldn’t stop but imagine the worst. What if the boy had had a car accident ? What if the boy had been kidnapped ? What if the boy had done something fatal to himself ? He wanted to be there when the boy returned home but now he wasn’t even sure the boy would come back home. It took him thirty seconds to grab his jacket and car keys and step out of the house. He didn’t know where to go but he had to go find the boy. He first tried school. Maybe the boy was skipping school with his friends. After driving around the school three times, Léopold gave up; the boy was not here. He then decided to go to the music store he knew Alexander liked but he was not there and the seller had not seen him. He went through all the city center streets for almost an hour but the kid was nowhere. He parked and tried not to panic. His hands tightened to the steering wheel, Léopold could feel tears coming up his eyes. He felt sick. He couldn’t ever forgive himself if anything would happen to his boy. He couldn’t help but ask himself how he could he have fail the boy this much. After a few minutes of pure despair, it hit him. The boy had return to his orphanage. Of course ! The boy was denying his new family and returned back to the lost causes, Léopold thought. He looked at his watch, 12:13. He started the car and drove, way above the limited speed, to the orphanage. Alexander was having a few tokes of a joint. He looked at his watch, 12:13. It has been almost two hours now that he had found his old friends. He remembered perfectly the hiding place they used to go when he lived in the orphanage. They were all there, his old family. They welcomed him pretty harshly but he was used to the violence. The violence was the way of existing in that place. “Hey Genius ! You were tired of sucking dicks at your genius school so you came back to the real people ?” yelled one of them as he saw him arriving. They didn’t seem so happy to seen him back but as soon as Alexander showed his bottle of whiskey, they all welcomed him with smiles. Everything seemed to be in order at last, thought Alexander. But after explaining what happened to him (avoiding to talk about the peeing in pants issue, of course), the group of young men around him split in two sides : one was congratulating him for leaving his teacher’s house and the other was despising him really badly. “You said no to a man who wished to make you his son? You’re fucking stupid, Alex !” yelled one of them. “You really want to hang in a group of bastards like us ? You moron ! You had a chance to live a real life and you blew it. You’re so fucking stupid, man !” someone else added. “Hey ! This fucking teacher doesn’t want me, all right ?!” said Alexander furiously, “He wants a good kid that behave properly. I’m not that kid and never will be !” he added. “I guess you’re not a genius, after all. You’re just a stupid asshole.” replied the first young man before taking the joint. Alexander remained silent. The group had already forgotten his story and went back to their discussion about Rihanna and her big ass. But Alexander couldn’t forget what was said. He couldn’t ignore any longer his huge sadness. Even the drunkenness couldn’t make him forget what he had lost. He wished now his teacher would have come after him, that he would have forced him not to escape. Alexander imagined Léopold going to lunch, saying goodbye to his students, feeling finally at ease now that the boy was out of his life. He looked at his watch again, 12:27. At 12:27, the reality he discovered at his teacher’s house was over. On that thought, he took an endless sip of whiskey. He wished to get drunk until he could not remember anything from these last few weeks, especially the last furious gaze of his teacher on him this morning. As he arrived at the orphanage, Léopold went inside to discover that Alexander never came here. The teacher couldn’t hide his disappointment, he was so confident about it. As he went out to get to his car, he heard a distant sound of music. He regain hope and followed silently the music. As he got closer to the source of music, he recognize Rihanna’s voice. He followed the voice until he arrived behind a condemned building. As he turned around he discovered a group of young men, from 15 to 17 years old he would say, smoking joints and drinking beers and looking to a smartphone while making obscene gestures. Apparently they were enjoying Rihanna’s figure, he thought with irony. After a second, he noticed a young man furiously drinking a bottle of whiskey. It took him a second to realize that behind that bottle was his young, so young, Alexander. His suddenly felt his blood boiling in his veins. Without even knowing what he was doing, at 12:27 exactly, Léopold walked firmly to the boy, grabbed the bottle from Alexander’s mouth and threw it to the opposite wall. The bottle broke in a violent crash. The boy didn’t even realize what happened before he felt the first slap on his bum. Being firmly held by his teacher’s right arm forcing him to bend over, Alexander couldn’t escape the frightening and humiliating spanking to be done. At first, the boy remembered his friends around him and tried to escape his teacher with violence and rage, but he finally realized who was giving him the spank and started feeling like a little boy. Finally, without even realizing it, he gave up and started sobbing frenetically. Neither did he realize that at the same time he let go of his tears, he also let go of his bladder. He couldn’t even feel the continuous stream of pee wetting his pants. Léopold could not accept his boy to destroy himself with alcohol, not when you are a 14 year old kid, thought Léopold as he held the boy to spank him. This kid had to realize that he his into somebody’s hands, the teacher thought. But then Léopold noticed a patch of pee appearing on the kid’s pants. The man removed his hand to the boy’s bum and plunged it to the kid’s messy hair, holding him to his chest. The boy was now acting like a kid, he thought, as his anger was replaced by worry. He let the boy pee himself and sob until the end before turning Alexander to him and hug him tenderly. “It’s over, baby”, Léopold said softly. “No more escape now.” Alexander was still crying softly, not capable of saying a word. He could only feel his teacher’s chest welcoming him. He couldn’t, or didn’t want to, move an inch. His teacher must have understand because he rose him from the floor and grabbed him tightly with both arms. Léopold could feel the boy’s face against his neck and arms gripping around his shoulders. Before going back to his car, he turned to the silent group of young men. They all froze as Léopold spanked Alexander and Rihanna was now completely mute. “I’m warning you all, if I ever have to get my kid back here, I will spank each of you with a bat. Is that clear ?” he yelled with a very deep voice, looking strictly into every young man’s eyes. “Yes, sir.” said an intimidated group. On the way back to the car, Alexander fell asleep into his teacher’s arms. Léopold opened the backseat door and lied the boy on the seats. He drove slowly, trying not to wake the boy up. Léopold got out of the car and tried to get a sleeping Alexander out of the car without waking him up but the boy looked up at his teacher. Léopold tried not to show his surprise when Alexander tended his arms to him, willing to be hold. He took the boy back in his arms and entered the house silently. Alexander eyes were closed again. As Léopold lied the boy in his bed and tried to break the embrace, Alexander moaned softly : “Please don’t let go of me yet, dad. Be my dad a little longer.” Léopold would have been completely shocked if he hadn’t smell the scent of cheap whiskey coming out of the teen’s mouth. Obviously the kid was drunk. But Léopolod didn’t want to deal with it yet. He wanted to be a dad a little longer. He waited for Alexander to be profoundly asleep before stepping out of the room. He was in the living-room, correcting some papers for school, when he heard Alexander’s room door opening noisily. He got up his chair and went up to check on the boy when he saw the bathroom door wide open and the boy knelt down the toilet, vomiting. The boy was trembling and sweating. Or at least, Léopold had thought it was only sweat. Alexander’s t-shirt was wet and, after a more precise look, Léopold could see his pants were too; the boy had peed his pants during his nap. Léopold went to the sick boy and rubbed his back tenderly. Alexander was so weakened, he didn’t even try to push him back. But the teacher knew that the reddened cheeks and the boy’s tears were not only a consequence of vomiting. “Let it all go, my boy. It’ll be over soon.” Léopold said, softly. After a moment the vomiting calmed down. The man wet a towel and swabbed Alexander’s face and neck to help him cool down. At the feeling of cold wet the boy suddenly woke up. He had peed himself during the spanking. And he had peed himself during his nap. “I…” he started, trembling. “Yes ?” asked the man. “I’m so sorry about… me peeing my pants.” Alexander continued, tears in his eyes. “It’s all right, baby.” the man said, softly. “I… I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why it happened. I’m sorry.” the teen added. “I think the spank made you remember that your are a child, therefore you wet your pants. And for the nap, you were sleeping, in other words you wet the bed. It happened before and it’s all right.” Léopold said, reassuring. “I… I promise it won’t happen again, sir. I will never pee my pants again, I swear.” the boy cried. “Be careful, kid. I don’t want you to lie to me anymore. I know you have peed your pants frequently now and I won’t ever scold you if it happens again. But I will never stand lies. Is it understood ?” he asked firmly and gently. “But… I don’t want to… I don’t want to wet my pants.” said the teen, shaking. “I know you don’t want to, baby. But it’s not going to disappear by hiding your wet clothes. If you wet your pants I want to know so I can help you. Do you understand ?” Alexander nodded, crying a little. Léopold pushed the tears away and kissed him in the forehead before stepping outside the room. “Clean yourself up, my boy. I’m waiting for you downstairs to talk about that and about your little trip this morning. You have some explaining to do.” the man said before closing the door behind him and getting down. About half an hour later, Alexander arrived in the living-room. The boy looked exhausted. “Can I have an aspirin, please ?” he asked, red faced. “It’s more painful that it seems to drink whiskey, isn’t it ?” replied the man before getting a medicine and a glass of water from the kitchen. The boy didn’t answer and sat down at the table, facing his teacher, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have take off like that.” the boy mumbled. “Indeed you shouldn’t have. What were you thinking exactly ?” the man asked, trying to stay calm. “I… I don’t know. I thought you wouldn’t want me here since… Since you saw that… I pee my pants...” the boy answered, ashamed. “Why would you think such a thing?” the man asked, in shock. “Because I’m 14 and I shouldn’t be peeing myself.” he said, angry at himself. “First of all, stop being so angry at yourself. Second of all, what do you know about 14 years old boys’ peeing ? Moreover, there’s no moral when it comes to wetting yourself. If you do there’s a reason, but there is absolutely no fault. Do you understand ?” replied his teacher, serious. “You’re not disappointed in me?” the teen asked, lowering his head. “Look at me, boy.” he said, waiting for Alexander to look up, “You peeing yourself will never disappoint me, never.” he said. “You don’t want a bigger boy ?” the teen asked. “I don’t want any other boy than you, kid.” the man answered. They finally talked more openly about Alexander’s wetting and the boy promised to tell his teacher whenever it would happen in the future. They, of course, talked about the running away and the drinking whiskey issue and the teen was grounded until the end of the month : no television, no exiting the house, no cell phone. The boy promised never to lie again to his teacher, but Leopold knew he would, because after all, he was just a kid. After diner, which was vomited almost instantly by a hang overed Alexander, they both went to bed. As usual, Léopold went tucking Alexander in his bed. He seemed to Léopold that the boy’s eyes were different that night. The boy didn’t avoid his teacher’s gaze, for once. He was actually the one who asked for a goodnight kiss in the forehead. He timidly pointed his forehead with his index, his face reddening. After a moment of hugging, Léopold got up and wished the boy sweet dreams. As Léopold turned off the light and stepped out the room, he heard a distinct “Good night, dad”. Maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol after all. They both went to sleep that night feeling that they were from now on and forever a family. 22:03, a new era. The End
  15. Hello everyone ! Thank you for your lovely reviews from december, it meant a lot to me. As you can see, I took my time... I'm sorry to be such a slow writer ! But, if some are still interested, I decided to finish the story in the next chapter. I will post the final chapter next week. I hope some of you will still want to read Alexander's adventures ! I wish you all a great day and thank you for your patience !
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