Rooting fiction in a childhood memory…

“Betsy,” Mandy called, “Go ahead. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

She quickly ducked behind a tree, pulling down her shorts and underwear, squatting as she moved them out of the way. Ah, sweet release! A steady stream of liquid splattered against the leafy ground and Mandy leaned back against the tree, feeling it’s rough bark pressing into her spine. Finally comfortable, she sighed and relaxed.

Betsy’s head popped around the tree, “I see you!” she crowed.

Mandy, startled, jerked, and felt the warm stream of urine run down her leg and soak into her white sock.

“You peed on yourself!” Betsy laughed. Her face glowed with malicious delight.

“No, I didn’t!” Mandy cried.

Betsy turned away. “Yes, you did,” she said smugly. “And, I’m going to tell everyone you peed in the woods and you peed on yourself.”

Mandy’s face flooded with shame. She pulled up her shorts and underwear quickly, yanking as the cotton twisted and dragged on her damp thighs. Panicked, she rushed after Betsy. “Betsy, wait, don’t tell!” she cried desperately. She knew the others would tease her mercilessly if they found out.

Betsy skipped ahead, ignoring her pleas, her blond head shimmering through the veil of tears in Mandy’s eyes.

One thought on “Rooting fiction in a childhood memory…

  1. Phillips Sue says:

    I was Mandy. Aren’t children sometimes cruel?


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