When it Ended//Supernatural Fanfiction

BONUS-Sick Days

Let me tell you a little something about periods.

Just being completely candid here, okay, I was 12 when I got my first period and was about as emotionally prepared as any child could be to endure the torture that was known professionally as a menstrual cycle.

To be honest, the first time I got it, I was just relieved I hadn't been pregnant.

But, as the day had passed on, all the relief I had once felt, was tossed aside, about as useful as an alarm on the weekends. 

See, I had been sitting calmly in my second class of the day, happily enjoying the National Geographic movie that had been turned on due to the fact that our teacher was absent.

Of course, just as we were learning about how blood sausage was made, all hell broke lose.

There were tears (all on my side of things), failed attempts at consolation (on the school's side of things), and finally a car ride home (from my mom's side of things, obviously).

After that, I had a hate-hate relationship with my period.

There are months when it doesn't show up, months when, despite the fact that the closest I had been to a boy was holding his hand, I was afraid I was suddenly pregnant.

Months were it comes, and stays for far too long.

This month, I was afraid, would liken to the latter of that spectrum.

I groaned loudly, curling up in a ball in the middle of my bed and squeezing my eyes shut tightly. 

This was not how I had planned spending my Saturday.

I was supposed to go out with my dad, we were going to head to town where I would precede to force him into purchasing unnecessary things, like bean bags, or those fake gag toys that look like poop. 

Instead, the entire day would be marred by the annoying pain in my abdomen and the sour mood to accompany it.

I've heard of people getting overly emotional on their periods, or stressed.

I get annoyed.

Every small issue becomes huge, every minor inconvenience becomes the inconvenience of the century. 

And noises, let me tell you about noises, the clicking of the fan as it turns in the corner, the sound footsteps as they walk past my room.

Everything becomes annoying.

I was getting ready to stuff earbuds in my ears and attempt to forget about life, when a light knocking resounded at my door.

I let out a small huff, pushing myself up so I leaned against the headboard of my bed.

"Yes?" My voice did nothing to hide the anger I felt. "Come in."

The door opened slowly, and my dad's head poked in timidly, his blue eyes squinted slightly as he slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room.

"Close the door please," I mumbled, turning around and stuffing my face into my pillow.

The door clicked shut quietly, and his footsteps drew near, pausing beside my bed, before gingerly sitting down.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice worried and deep, without even looking I could see the concern on his face. 

I simply groaned in response, feeling the bed shift as he moved and a gentle hand as it was placed carefully on my back.

"Would you like me to heal you?" I turned around, face scrunched up and hair messily tangled on top of my head. 

"Can you do that? I mean, I'm not injured, like, sure I'm in pain, but not, like pain pain. But it is pain. I'm just... ugh.. not pregnant." The words were mumbled as they left my mouth, barely thought out.