Parts: one, two, three, four

“Hello?” her mother answered the phone, her voice groggy and full of sleep.

“Mom,” she began, gasping for the breath and courage to betray herself the rest, “I had sex. I’m bleeding. I have to go to the hospital.”

She’d said it quickly and without taking a breath, for she knew if she waited for even a moment she’d change her mind again. She waited for a few tortuous moments as she heard her father mumble in the background, asking who was on the other line, and as her mother answered him in hushed tones.

“We’ll meet you there,” her mother said before reminding her which hospital their insurance would cover.

***

She could hear the sound her shoes made against the hospital’s floor as she looked around the empty room, searching for a helpful face.  Her mouth twisted into a strange grin as a cackle escaped from her lips, “Figures,” she mumbled to no one in particular.  Her footsteps grew quieter, or perhaps it was just that her concentration had shifted, as she began to make her way around the winding passages to find someone working.

Finally, she found a nurse.

“Um, excuse me…well….I had sex…and, I’m bleeding.  They told me to come to the ER?”  She said, almost hesitantly, very unsure of herself.

“Who told you to come to the Emergency Room?”  The nurse countered with an odd look on her face.

“The…well, I’m not sure.  I called and they said this wasn’t normal…”

“Whatever.  Take a seat.  You’ll have to fill out some paperwork.”

“Well…okay,” she said, and then hesitated “but, it is a lot of blood…”

The nurse walked away, as if she’d never really heard and the girl sat there, wondering if it’d been a mistake once again.

***

She had finally showed them the blood, and it was then that they took her seriously as she was given a bed to lay down on because her legs had begun to betray her.  They wheeled her back as her head floated in and out of consciousness.  The lights blurred by and she could make out the voices of someone else chastising the nurse who had all but welcomed her to this hospital tonight.  She could hear the nurses arguing with the doctor on-call about whether or not she should have the transfusion, and then she heard the silence of their resignation as they did what they were told.  She heard a voice saying “She’s back here…” and she heard the muffled footsteps approaching.  She cracked open her eyelids, and positioned her elbow just so to prop herself – but, the swarm in her head forced her back to the pillow, where she focused her attention to the two people standing before her: Her parents.  Her mother’s blue eyes were cold and the rims of her eyes were a bit rosier than usual – she couldn’t really tell if it was just from being woken up in the middle of the night or if she’d actually been crying.  Her father…well, her father refused to look at her.  “Mom?  Dad?…” She started, then let her words trail off, understanding in that moment that he wouldn’t be looking at her, no matter what she said.

She resigned as tears flooded her eyes, but refused to let them escape until the nurses had wheeled her off and away from them for the surgery that would stop the bleeding.  “It was a mistake.  I want to go home, now.  I changed my mind.  I shouldn’t have come.  He hates me!”  She cried.  The nurses tried to shush her as they brought the mask of magical gas down over her face as they’d promised to do before inserting the IV.  “I told you, he hates me!  I don’t care anymore!”  She sputtered again, wishing that the downcast eyes and disapproval from her father had been saved for when her eyes had been sealed shut by death itself, wishing she’d just went back to bed to wait.

Welcome back!

*in case you want to catch up:

Part one.
Part two.
Part three.

It was like she felt the need to double-check or something – although she hadn’t the slightest idea what for. And when the rings were abruptly stopped by a smooth voice, she was almost surprised. She told the listener on the other end that she’d had sex and was bleeding, but this time she didn’t leave out the fact that her “first time” had left her with several soaked-through pads of blood.

It only took the woman a moment of thoughtful silence before she said, “Get to the hospital, now. You’re losing too much blood and the other stuff you’re seeing and hearing is your body trying to clot…”

With an almost hysterical laugh, she replied to the angel on the other side of the line, “Yeh. Not gonna happen. My parents would hate me and never forgive me. I’d rather die.” She had said it with fierce determination, but her face quivered as did the phone in her hand.

The woman sighed, but only for a short moment before she said, “Honey, your parents would much rather the call from you tonight than the call tomorrow morning from the paramedics, telling them their baby girl is gone…Please. Go to the hospital….”

“I can’t…” she said, as she hung up the phone. She laughed at the irony – here was her chance to die and it wouldn’t have even been her fault, but something in her clicked and she wanted to fight back. She was much too stubborn to die on someone else’s terms. She picked the phone up once more, but this time for a different sort of call….

(part 1 -here, part 2 – here)

Her mouth gaped open as she saw the bloody hand-prints covering the wall near the light switch. Her head swarmed as she looked to see his hands covered in blood, to his elbows. He didn’t seem to be the least bit shocked or concerned, and she wondered if this was how it was supposed to be. Behind her, the bed lay rumpled with a pool of red blood where she had been only moments ago.

She looked at him as he cracked the door open to talk to the voice on the other side, and unable to make sense of any of it, she gathered her things and pulled the door open enough for her to slide out between them. But the boy on the other side had already seen. His eyes became large and his mouth turned into a snarl as he pointed to her, demanding to know what she’d done and how she could possibly bloody up his room.

It was then she looked down and realized that the blood was all hers, and for the first time she could feel it dripping down the inside of her pants leg.

The other boy, the one with blood on his hands, told him to be quiet, to let her go. And, she ran. Out of the room, and into the bathroom – unrolling as many squares of toilet paper she could off the roll, sticking them inside her panties. She stuffed extra tissue in her pocket as she quietly peaked out the door. She could hear the boys arguing in the other room, one of them angry because his mattress had been “soaked through.” She quietly ran down the stairs, and softly told her friend they needed to leave NOW and her friend promptly complied at hearing the urgency in her voice.

“What happened?” Her best friend asked as they drove silently against the black town. “We…had sex. I’m bleeding.” She said, her voice distant and steady.

They arrived at her best friend’s home and she went straight to the bathroom to change out the tissue paper she’d carelessly rolled and stuffed into her panties. The whole lot had soaked through in the matter of only a few minutes, so she grabbed a panty-liner from her friend’s bathroom vanity. As she sat on the toilet, she could hear the blood slowly trickling into the clear water, turning it red. She shoved the panty-liner back and opted instead for an overnight maxi pad.

Slowly, she got up and washed her hands – believing this was nothing but normal. When she opened the door, she could hear the soft giggles of her friend as she sat, talking on the phone to the boy she’d just met. Her friend paused, looking at her – searching for a clue to explain the expression that had taken residence on her face. “I’m going to bed,” she said, pointing to the bedroom door that they shared. Her friend nodded, and then she walked away, leaving her friend on the couch.

Suddenly, she was awake again – as if she’d been startled, but the room was dark and quiet. She felt the bed beside her but her friend hadn’t come in yet. Trying to see the clock, she squinted to make out the red numbers. It’d only been an hour since she’d laid down. She tried to get comfortable, twisting and turning, but she couldn’t get rid of the aching that spread through her down there. It throbbed just enough to keep her from falling back to sleep.

Slowly, she stood back up and walked the few steps to the doorway, where her own hand shot out and grasped the door frame, keeping her from falling. Her best friend put the phone down, cautiously eyeing her “Are you…alright?”

Silently, she shook her head. “I think I’m going to pass out,” she added quietly.

“I have to go, I’ll call you back,” Her friend said into the phone, hanging up.

Her friend was beside her, helping her back to the bathroom where she sat again. This time, though, there was more blood. It steadily streamed into the toilet in small amounts, occasionally with a slight “plop” as it hit the water. She looked at her friend, embarrassed, and asked, “Are you supposed to bleed like this…after…you know?”

Her friend, deep in thought, shook her head. “I’m not really sure, but I don’t think so. You should call the hospital or something.”

With that, the phone was handed to her and she began to call her gynecologist, although she had no clue why since they would definitely not be open during the wee hours of the night. The answering service answered, and was barely helpful, telling her that some people bled more than others and if she was concerned to go to the hospital. She hung up. She wasn’t concerned. She laughed slightly at the thought of not waking up again – it wasn’t like anyone would really care. Hell, it might actually relieve them, she thought, tears stinging her eyes. It’d been months since she’d gotten along with her parents, and months since the depression had first set in. After all, would the man who had shoved the letter she’d written to him explaining her desire to stop living back in her chest while calling her a selfish baby really ever miss her? Probably not.

And yet, despite the sadness that gripped her, she picked the phone up and dialed another number. Her hands were working on their own, because she’d already decided she didn’t even care what happens.

(part 1 is here)

The room was dark, save for the stream of light coming from the hallway which gave the entire room the ambiance of a dimly lit restaurant – without the food, of course. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, and in that moment she let her guard down and sighed with relief. After moments of nothing but kissing, his fingertips found the inside of her wrists as he used them to push her down onto the bed. Confused and unsure how to respond, she began to shift her body to raise herself upright – or she would have, had the gentle pressure of his hand on her shoulder not been lightly pressing her down.

Thoughts ran furiously through her head, some negating the others but as a whole they left her more confused than she’d been to start with. Unsure of what to do, she did the only thing she knew how to do and became quiet, wondering and waiting. He began slowly, even kissing her, but after only a few seconds she was sure that this was not what she wanted. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her first time, and she was supposed to be in love – even married, both of which she was not. “Stop.” She whispered. She looked at his face and wondered if he’d even heard her, but the rocking motion told her he had not. “Please. Just stop.” She said it again, this time louder but still merely a hiss. He looked at her and shook his head slightly, “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I don’t want to do this. It hurts. Please. Stop.” She said back, her voice still low and controlled.

He paused.

But, it was only for a moment.

She tried to raise her shoulders from the pillow under her as she asked again “Please…” but her voice broke and failed her. Her head slumped back as she let the silent tears caress her cheekbones. She knew she should kick him – or, at least that she could. Something, at least – but her body wouldn’t move and all she wanted in that moment was to disappear. She closed her eyes, the wet lashes touching the top of her cheek as she grit down on her teeth. It hurt, what he was doing, but she guessed it was normal as she’d never done this before. She squeezed her eyes even tighter shut and concentrated on nothing but the black void in the back of her mind, willing herself to leave this place – if only in her head.

And, she did.

It may have been the pain that brought her back, or the warm sensation between her legs – she wasn’t sure. It felt like only seconds had passed, but she knew it had to have been longer. With her hand, she reached down to feel what seemed to be a trickle of warmth on her. Though what she found was nothing like a trickle, but a puddle instead. She wondered if it was normal but sharp stabs of pain radiated against her insides and her head could no longer hold her thoughts. How could she just now be aware of this pain?

“Stop. Now.” She said, determined and with an edge to her voice. “Get off.”

His body stalled and the knock on the door made him stiffen. “Just a minute!” He called.

She was thankful for the sharp knock and for what it meant for her. She began to stand, but sat down sharply as her head rumbled in protest, blurring my vision and balance. The room was completely dark, now as the door had been closed at some point. He fumbled for the light switch as she tried again to stand without falling.

With a sudden burst, light flooded the room and she stood where she was, looking around – horrified. She hadn’t been prepared for this…

She’d only wanted to get away from the sadness for awhile, and here she found herself sitting next to her best friend’s cousin – a boy she barely knew. He was angry that his own best friend sat behind him, making out with his younger cousin despite the fact he’d warned him not to touch her. She didn’t understand why he didn’t just look away and leave it be, why he couldn’t just let it go…they were just kissing. But, then he looked at her in that way that boys never looked at her, and she froze. She could feel a tendril of her hair being gently pulled as he wrapped it around his finger and let it fall loosely back off. He told her she was pretty and she smirked at his brashness, thinking he was kind of cute. And, then he kissed her.

Pulling away, she’d frowned. She hadn’t expected that, or any of this. They had been invited to a party, and yet everyone had left only minutes to arrive to fill a car with fog as they choked on joints. She hadn’t wanted to go, though. She wasn’t looking to get in trouble tonight, she’d just wanted out. She’d wanted to breathe, and she’d wanted to stop crying – something she could only do if she could leave for a while. So, she had. She looked up at the boy who had kissed her, and he was frowning now, but not at her. He was getting angrier at his friend behind him and had begun to say something when she whispered, “Why don’t we just go talk in another room?”

Taking her hand, he led her away – away from the kitchen, away from the back patio, and up the stairs. As he opened the door to an entirely different room and she spied the bed against the wall, she knew she’d said the wrong thing. She was fifteen, and still untouched – and sometimes she spoke about things she never meant to do just to impress her friends – but, this was nothing like what she’d meant. She’d only meant they move to another room, away from the activities that had seemed to upset him so much.

But, then she strangled back a laugh – at herself – thinking that even the thought of him wanting or expecting that from her had been too forward of herself. Why was she even worrying? He was nineteen, and she was fifteen – and she didn’t think herself to be too pretty, and she definitely hadn’t done anything to make him think she was up for this…had she?

Sitting on the bed, he patted the comforter beside him and she walked over, leaving the security of the door frame and sat down to talk.

But, he was nineteen and she was fifteen.

(part 2 is here)