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My First Stain

“It’s not going away!”

“It’s not going away!” I hiss to myself. “It’s not going away!!” I screech to myself. “IT’S NOT GOING AWAY!!” I scream with tears pouring down my face. “Why is it not going away…?” I lie down in sorrow, rubbing my hand consistently in case the mark goes away.

For the onlookers, I might have been acting crazy and stupid cleaning a mark that didn’t exist but in my eyes, the mark was still there. The red cold fluid was still stuck in my hand not washing away no matter how hard I tried. It had all begun on the school bus…

We were coming back home and I was sitting in the front row, near the door, among friends. We were gossiping about a new cute boy that had just taken admission at our school. We each took out turns deciding how’d we propose to him if we ever got the chance and how if we one of us did end up making him our boyfriend how we’d keep him happy and blessed forever.

We were so happy… just so happy. That’s when it began.

It came like a cramp. My stomach suddenly felt like a tornado had hit it. Everything was turning upside down.  All of a sudden someone was stabbing me with a million knives. It was a totally new level of pain. And then came the worst part. My friend pointed it out to me. When I looked down, sudden terror struck me.

Blood had stained my skirt.

Everyone shooed me away making faces of disgust and I was left helpless as blood came pouring out and the pain was endless. My mood worsened and in anger, more so in sorrow I pressed the emergency button, stopped the bus and ran out of the door straight to my house.

The blood had stopped coming out, but in embarrassment, so no one else sees my blood-stained underwear, I stuck my hand down and “tried” to hide my underwear. It was surely not a pleasant sight to see. I put my bag ahead of me so visibility was decreased.

Thankfully I reached home in one piece and with no more instances of embarrassment. Everyone was either out at work or busy at home so no one else had time to see a young girl of 12 years holding her underwear running in the streets (what a sight that could’ve been).

When I entered my house I saw that the red fluid had dried up on my hands. With a disgusted look on my face, I began to wash it.

Minutes turned into seconds into hours. The stain wouldn’t go away. No matter how much soap I used. No matter how much shampoo I used. No matter how much I scrubbed and scrubbed IT JUST WOULD NOT GO AWAY.

I was crying in the washroom when my mom came back. Seeing me drenched in the water she asked me what was wrong. When I narrated my story to her she burst out laughing which riled me up and I flared at her, “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING” to which she only replied,

“Oh, my baby. It’s just that, I didn’t think you’d have your first period like this.”

Then she kept on laughing while I sat there clueless as to what had happened.

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