Gangs and Roses

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The second time I woke up I made sure that it was morning. Sunlight poured into the room through the small crack in the middle, making me squint for a couple of seconds to get used to it. I looked at the clock. It was 6:03. Why was I waking up so early?  

I sat up, stretching and yawning. I felt something wet beneath me and my hand, on reflex, shot straight to my bum. It was wet! I lifted my hand from the covers to see that it was covered in blood. I would've screamed if I hadn't known I was on my period.  

As quick as lightening, I climbed out. I whisked the covers away from the sheet to see a small pool of blood; an exact one imprinted on my pyjamas bottoms. I internally groaned to myself. Why did this have to happen now? Why today when I had just moved in to a house full of boys and I didn't even know where the washing machine was? Damn it. I was seriously screwed, not to mention embarrassed.  

Grabbing a clean pair of knickers and pyjama bottoms, I rushed to the bathroom. I got changed, cleaning myself up. With some new clothes on I felt ten times better and I chucked the bloody ones into the washing basket, telling myself that I would take them down to the washing machine later. But first, I had to sort out the problem with the sheet. I couldn't just leave it. It would have to get washed - now. Otherwise it would leave a stain and that would be...horrific. 

Luckily none of the blood had gotten onto the duvet cover and just the sheet. I ripped it off, holding it in a huge bundle in my arms. I made sure to wrap the bloody patch in the rest of the sheet so in case I came across any of the boys on my travels they wouldn't be able to see anything. They would just be hugely confused, instead.  

Poking my head out my bedroom door, I noticed that the hallway was completely silent. I crept out, tip-toeing down the stairs and into the main living room. My head bent round to the kitchen and noticed Will buttering some toast, his shoulders arched and slightly flexed as he held the knife in one hand. I couldn't help but check him out for a moment before mentally kicking myself.  

Why did Will have to be there? Why! Wasn't what I'd done enough punishment?  

Holding my breath, I jumped down the last step of the stairs and walked as casually as possible to the door in the corner, silently praying that it was the laundry room.  

"What are you doing?"  

I stopped in my tracks, realizing that it was Will who was speaking; speaking to me. I turned on my heel, noticing that he had finished buttering his toast and was sitting at the counter with a glass of milk.  

"Err, nothing," I said, smiling weakly. "Where's the laundry room?"  

Mid-chew, Will frowned, pointing to the other door next to the dining room table. "Over there."  

"Thanks!" I chirped. And before he could say anything else to me, I practically sprinted to the door. I slammed it behind me, exhaling deeply. That was seriously close. Luckily I had loads of experience in this kind of thing. My parents were divorced and so when I lived with my Dad during the holidays those things always seemed to crop up. I could've told him because he was my Dad. But he was still a male and therefore wouldn't understand and also probably get hugely get grossed out by it.  

The laundry room was small in-between the two washing machines and dryers. Why did they need two? There was only four of them - well, now five. But seriously, how much money did they have?  

I prayed that the washing machine wasn't one of those fancy was and, unfortunately, it was a touch-screen, something that I'd never come across before. I turned it on, lifting the lid and chucking the sheet inside. The LED screen flickered into life. I followed the instructions, they were simple enough and I poured the right amount of powder inside.