Period Girl

Menstrual Cycle

And there I was, waking up in a puddle of my own blood. This can’t be good, I thought. I mean, sure I thought I would be prepared for this, but I never expected this much. And I always thought there’d be some sort of warning, some feeling associated with it. But with my luck, it happened in my sleep and I was soaking through the mattress for sure.

I got up but the room was spinning so I sat back down, then bounced back up realizing I was adding yet another murderish imprint on the white sheets. Stupid white. Why does anyone even bother buying whites? The sheet was a wreck, a crime-scene by the looks of it, so I pulled it off the bed and just used it as a giant piece of toilet paper, cleaning myself up and then waddling to the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet, and it was then that it hit me—this was not my bathroom.

There was a mirror and sure enough I looked the same. Same but better, in a way, except for the bloat in my gut, which I chalked up to the inaugural arrival of Aunt Flo. That bitch. I considered maybe I was still dreaming so it wasn’t totally strange to search the closet and find only black spandex bodysuits. Of course there were matching boots and laid on the vanity were several eye masks. All black and simple and mine, I assumed.

I put one on. On the back was a red circle. A period?

This was when it all began. That was the strangest six days. And then I woke up and was home.

What a relief to be done with all that bleeding, I thought. And how convenient to have slept all the way through it. My father had been worried, of course, but didn’t know much about women things so he had let me have my space.

I went back to school, worried what I would say if someone asked where I had been. But nobody did. Ask. I had hoped to at least brag to someone about it, Jessica’s family had a sit-down dinner for her to celebrate, which was stupid, but still, it was something. I thought maybe I looked older. But nobody noticed a thing.

And then, in three weeks, it happened all over again.

This time I was a little more prepared. I mean, at least prepared for the sight of the massacre in my panties. It was horrific, but at least I didn’t worry I was dying this time. I just sort of thought to myself, shit, this again? But then, as I hopped to the bathroom with the sheets tucked between my legs, I realized once again, I was not where I belonged. Although my heart felt excited at the idea of putting on those black ensembles again. Excited for the next six days, if it lasted that long again.

Sure, it was a bummer swapping out pad after pad from the full bodysuit, not an easy to feat to pull off and on every few hours. But still, the rush of scaling out the window of the apartment building and saving young girls virginity all across town, now that was exciting!

And in no time at all I heard one calling me and in a flash I was heading to the parking lot at the old drive in. I ran like lightening, faster than I ever thougth possible, and approached the couple moments before penetration.

“Stop!” I yelled, and pointed my tampon wand at them.

“Ew, gross!” I heard him say in disgust.

And then I ran off to save the next one. Delivering periods all across town.

Five years later…

“I’m sick of this!” I said, slamming down the phone. It was him, my dad, telling me once again that he can’t help with tuition. Again. I guess I’ll just get kicked out of the dorms then. And then what?

I plopped down on my shitty mattress with the springs ready to bust through. I was bitchy, but my period was still eighteen days away. I had to wait eighteen days to escape this life! Unless…there was a way to get it sooner. If there was a way to get it all the time so I would never have to come back here to this stupid, average, boring life.

I considered all the possibilities, starting with stabbing myself. But it was complicated, because I knew this “condition” I had was related to not just any bleeding, but menstruation. After all, it didn’t start until my first period. So, would I have to stab my uterus? And how would that affect me in the other world? How could I stay there, stay bleeding once I get there? I wanted to go and never come back.

I thought of Becky, my roommate who was on birth control pills. She told me she gets prescriptions from her doctor at home and student health clinic so that she never runs out. She takes them every day, and then when it’s time for her period, she doesn’t take the green pills. No. She starts a new pack of pink ones. And she says she never. Gets. A. Period. Woh. I think I just figured it out.

She’s been doing this for a while. She has endless packs. Endless. I looked in her special drawer. There they were. Pink and green dials of what she liked to call “anti-baby pills”. And I took the used cartridges, took the green candy like prescriptions that were supposed to trigger her period. And they were all mine. I had enough for…ten weeks! Ten weeks of bleeding, ten weeks to go there and figure out how to stay.

I took one pill. Nothing. I took them all and my stomach lurched with activity. It should be any time now. This, as I lie in bed, trying to will myself to sleep. Trying to will myself into another lifetime, into an endless period.