It was a cold January morning, and I was getting ready for school like any other day. I had a normal breakfast, packed my bag, and before heading out, I saw a piece of chocolate on the kitchen counter. Without thinking, I grabbed it and ate it as a little treat.
Big mistake.
About 15 minutes later, while riding the school bus, my stomach started to feel… strange. At first, it was just a little cramp, but then the rumbling started. That’s when it hit me—I had eaten one of my dad’s laxative chocolates. It looked like regular candy, but it definitely wasn’t.
And now I was on a bus, heading away from home, with no bathrooms in sight for at least an hour.
I tried to hold it together, clenching every muscle I could. I told myself I could make it. But just minutes after we left my town, the pressure got worse. I was sweating, panicking, and turning red. I knew I couldn’t hold it much longer.
I rushed to the front of the bus and asked the driver to stop. He looked at me kind of confused—until he saw how desperate I looked. Without asking questions, he pulled over on the side of the highway.
The moment those doors opened, I ran. I didn’t care where I was—I just needed a spot, fast. I found the nearest tree, which happened to be right next to someone’s gate, and ran behind it. I barely had time to get my pants down before, well… it all came out. Loudly.
It was like my body had turned into a volcano. Hot, painful, and nonstop. I stayed there, crouched behind the bush, for what felt like forever. Every time I thought I was done, another wave hit.
Eventually, after almost two hours, my phone rang. It was my parents wondering why I hadn’t made it to school. I explained everything—the chocolate, the bus, the emergency stop, and my current situation. They didn’t even sound mad. They just said, “Stay where you are. We’re coming to get you.”
When they arrived, I was still behind the same tree, afraid to move too much in case things started up again. I got in the car carefully, sat very still, and rode home in silence.
Of course, as soon as I stepped into the house, the cramps hit again. I ran straight to the bathroom and barely made it in time. Round two was just as bad as the first.
After that, I collapsed in bed and slept for hours. I was completely worn out.
The next morning, I woke up thinking it was finally over. I stood up—and my stomach started rumbling again. I couldn’t believe it. How was there anything left?
So yeah… all because I ate a piece of chocolate without knowing what it was.
Lesson learned: if it’s not your chocolate, don’t eat it. Especially if it belongs to your dad—and especially if it’s labeled “extra strength.”