Oh no... I caught a glimpse of the small, rusty-red blot that was streaked along the white fabric of my underwear. It was that time again. The one time during the twenty-eight days that was the biggest cause of annoyance for the entire female population. I should've known that it was going to come around again-I'd had cramps just the day before, but with everything that had happened recently I had paid it no heed. Relax, Eve. Breathe. It's only your period. You'll be fine. Just change and put in a tampon. Calm down. But suddenly, an unnerving thought made its' appearance. What if the tampons hadn't been sterilized properly in the factory? Germs could've easily worked their way into them in between sterilizing and sealing them up. I groaned. Right at the back of my mind, there was an infinitesimally tiny voice which told me that it was impossible, that I mustn't let my thoughts control me.
But I just couldn't accept that what it was saying was true. I didn't believe it, and a door slammed on it, silencing the thought and leaving me with the bad thoughts that felt as if people were talking to me inside my head. Yes, the tampons certainly aren't safe. And no, don't even think about coating them with hand sanitizer. It won't work. "Pads then," I sighed, reaching into the cupboard for a box. But, out of the blue, another thought made my hand freeze. God, are you really that stupid? Or do we have to spell it out for you? Think about it: tampons and pads are most probably made in the same factory. So they wouldn't have sterilized those properly either. Jeez. You must have a really thick skull or something if you couldn't figure that one out on your own. "Shut up!" I snarled, gritting my teeth with the effort it took to dismiss what they were saying. Trying to shut out the thoughts that were buzzing around my head like angry wasps, I cautiously ripped open a sanitary wrapper. The effect that that one little gesture had on my bad thoughts was immense. What the hell are you doing, Evelyn? Didn't you listen before? They didn't sterilize it properly! You'll get an infection! There's bacteria on it! For God's sake, girl, YOU ARE GOING TO GET SICK!! I clamped my eyes shut as a catapult of bad thoughts was mentally fired, and fought the urge to double over. Figuring the best way to do it would be like ripping off a sticking plaster, I swiftly tore off the adhesive strip and pressed the rectangle onto the white material. I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding and had another thought. But, incredibly, it wasn't a bad one this time. There. That wasn't so bad, was it Eve? Now, just wash your hands, and- oh. Just then, I remembered the cream, which had sat on the side of the sink, untouched for at least six days. My hands had got worse: most of the scabs had been washed off and were now open sores, and the rest had scarred. Scooping some out of the pot, I rubbed it all over my hands, and it provided a cool relief from the dull ache that they had adopted recently. But then, without any warning, I doubled over. A thought had managed to knock me down with a feather. And it consisted of only three words. WASH IT OFF. I pictured the millions and millions of germs swimming around in the cream, just waiting to make me ill. That did it. Palms now slick with sweat, I twisted the tap on and pumped the soap ten times over. The tap water was freezing, but I didn't care. The relief I felt from washing my hands was far greater than the relief I'd got while applying the antiseptic-moisturizing cream. But, as always, it didn't last. I lathered and rinsed the soap from my hands a dozen times because for some reason ten times just didn't seem like enough this time, dried them and dragged myself into my bedroom to get dressed.
I was sitting atop the black marble table in the kitchen, digging into a bowl of cinnamon cereal when I had an idea. I knew that Dylan was still slightly traumatized by her mother's menstruation lesson. And didn't she once tell me that she used Star Wars to cheer herself up? Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I texted her telling her to bring all the Star Wars movies she had, and that I had a surprise for her. She would probably just assume that I wanted her to help me make another movie timeline, but I had a different idea in mind. Only a few days ago she was talking about how we should have an all-out Sci-Fi movie marathon, and what better time was there to do it than today? Hopefully it would take her mind off The Bloody Lesson (as I now called it) for a bit, at least until the next weekly doom lecture rolled around again. We were both such Sci-Fi geeks and we'd watched the movies so many times that we sometimes used some of the older films to come up with fan fictions for WebStoree, or propose a bet on how many rooms there were inside The Supremacy (way over 500 at least), and since the idea had not really occurred to us before ,strangely enough, I hoped that she wouldn't guess what I was planning. Not even ten minutes later, a knock on the door sounded through the nearly-empty house and I let her in. Grinning, she held up five Star Wars DVD cases and said, "So, what have you got planned this time?" I smiled. "You'll find out soon enough." And I was right. As soon as we entered the living room, her eyes were immediately drawn to the pile of movies and the cluster of admittedly unhealthy morsels on the coffee table, and she instantly knew what I had prepared. Her grin widened, and without my instruction, she slipped The Last Jedi into the DVD player(in our opinion, that was the best one that they had made so far) and pulled me onto the sofa beside her. As the familiar orchestral opening boomed from the speakers, she rested her head on my shoulder, drumming her hands on my thighs in excitement. I smiled at her, closed the curtains for a more cinematic atmosphere, and the marathon began!
Six hours, three films and four packets of snacks later, I switched off the TV as the end credits rolled up the screen, overcome by that strange tiredness you get from doing nothing. "So, here's a question for you!" I exclaimed, trying to think of my own answer before I revealed what I was about to ask her. "What was the best part of The Last Jedi?" Dylan combed her fingers through her lilac hair in thought for a few moments. Then she replied,
"Probably the part where Kylo Ren commands the First Order to fire all the guns they have on Luke in the final battle-" I finish the sentence for her. "-and then the General asks him, 'Do you think you got him?'!" We both snickered, remembering the scene. "I loved it in the Millennium Falcon when the porgs were wreaking havoc before they took off, and then one of them got squished on the window!" I giggled, predicting how she was going to respond to what I'd said. Sure enough, she opened her mouth and out of it came a porgs' call, as accurate as the ones in the movie itself. "How do you do that?!" I laughed, trying to imitate her. "Oh, wait-" I managed to make a shrill screech at the back of my throat, which wasn't too dissimilar from the Ahch-To island birds. She laughed. "Not bad. With a bit of practice you could be in the next Star Wars!" I smirked at her. "What do you mean, a bit of practice?" I teased, flinging a cushion at her. She squealed and caught it just before it hit home, and we proceeded to have an all-out pillow fight. After a few minutes, we whacked each other a final time and rolled onto the floor, our giggles sticking in our throats from exhaustion. When we'd managed to calm down slightly, Dylan bit her lip and opened her mouth, but snapped it closed again. Then she said, "Do you, erm... do you want to go o-out for lunch on Thursday afternoon? You know, the Italian café?" I mentally frowned. Why was she so nervous? She was my best fr....oh. I had a thought. I coughed awkwardly, smiled and replied, "Sure. I'll be there at twelve." She looked relieved. "Great. So, see you then?" My smile widened a fraction. "See you then."
I told myself that it was just a friend thing, that it was just an informal meet-up, but deep down, I knew the truth, even though I couldn't admit it to myself. And anyway, what it there to admit? Like you said, she's only a friend.
Or is she?
Hello!
Who would've thought it, I actually managed to stick to my updating schedule! Sorry if there are any Star Wars spoilers, I've become obsessed with it and I've seen The Last Jedi 3 times. Excessive? Yes. Fangirling? DEFINITELY ;). Thanks for the support and I'll try and stick to the weekly updates!
FeistyPebble
YOU ARE READING
Eve(-1)
Teen Fiction*COMPLETED AND EDITING* You can't often tell when you're internally breaking. Most of the time, you don't want to hear it. You say you're fine and hold your head high, trying to camouflage your pain and the approaching storm. But what do you do when...
