Alexis

Macchiato

Photo source- *edited* Pinterest

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"Dad?" I called, quietly walking into his office. My eyes were warm. I was crying a few moments ago.

"Hey, Marie," dad smiled, ending his phone call.

"Is Rose here?" I asked, my hands in front, clasped together.

"No," he answered, standing from his seat. He walked over to me. "What's wrong?"

"Um. . . I need to go to the store," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes.

"Store? I told you to put everything on the list yesterday. Can it wait?"

I silently shook my head. "No, dad. . . . Is Rose far?"

"She's back in New Jersey– why aren't you looking at me? Did something happen?" he asked as he softly grabbed my small, childish face, forcing me to look at him. "Marie, are you okay?"

I hesitantly nodded. "I need to go to the store, dad. . . . I'm. . . um, bleeding," I whispered, ashamed. Tears started to come back to my eyes.

"From what– oh! Marie? Did you start your period?" he asked. My face flushed. I broke eye contact as he gently let go of my face. I nodded. "It's okay, Bambina. Thank you for telling me," he said as he grabbed my hand, walking out of his office. "Do you have something on right now?"

"No. . . ."

"Okay. Go take a shower or a bath, try to relax. I'll go pick you up some stuff, okay? Close your bathroom door. I'll knock when I'm back and then leave everything at the door. Okay?"

I nodded as he jogged downstairs. He called out loud that he loved me before I heard the garage door close. I made my way to my bedroom and walked into the bathroom, closing and locking the door. I turned on the shower to rinse off before I got in the bath.

I felt embarrassed and my hands were shaking. I felt like I was too young. I was only ten, eleven in three months exactly. I didn't expect this. My aunt only talked to me once about this. She told me it was called my period and that I'd get it once a month and that I'd have to wear pads until I'd turn fifteen or sixteen because she said then I'd start wearing tampons if I wanted since I was still young.

I wasn't even wearing training bras yet. My aunt said she'd buy me them when it was time. It wasn't time. I just had little buds. Nothing more.

I stayed in the bath even though the water turned cold. I didn't want to get out and stain another towel. I didn't know how to get blood out of my clothes. I'd have to ask my dad or just throw them out but dad frowned upon me throwing our clothes. He and my aunt always told me "if it is still wearable, then donate it to the people that don't have anything".

I was hugging my knees to my chest, staring at my pink and purple painted toenails with white flowers. I called it an Asain design because I always had it done when I went to the nail place. My aunt told me the actual name because she said "it's not right to say Asain design" but I forgot the name.

There was a stern knock on the door. I looked up from my position.

"Marie, I have everything out here. I'll be downstairs if you need me, okay?"

"O– okay!" I called, my voice wavering. "Thank you!"

He didn't respond. I drained the tub and stepped out. I wrapped a towel around me, opening the door. I quickly grabbed a pair of underwear and the bag. It was filled.