Painless

Prologue

I am 5 years old and riding my red tricycle. I pedal super fast as I try to beat my 6 year old friend Tom, who can now ride an actual bike, but with training wheels.

"I'm going to beat you!" I announce.

"Never! You're a girl!" he replies.

My tricycle is racing down the sidewalk, when all of the sudden I lose my grip and fall off. Tom gets off of his bike and my dad runs over from the porch to comfort me.

I have a huge bruise on my knee, and he asks "Are you ok? Do you need a band-aid?"

"Yes I am! And no." I reply.

I sprint back to my tricycle.

"Tom! Let's do it again!" I yell excitedly.

He runs back to his bike, but just before we are about to start racing, my dad stops me.

He has a concerned look on his face.

"Rory, you're not okay. Look! Your knee is bleeding."

"Dad I'm good," I say before I start pedaling.

He is still concerned, but makes his way back to the porch.

From then on my parents became totally over protective. They always insisted that they come with me when I wanted to ride my bike, and whenever I went to a friend's house they would ask who they were and then call the mother to make sure it was safe. Whenever I tried to question them about their motives, they insisted that they were just being "good parents" and making sure that I was safe.

As I grew older and made more friends, they would always rant about how their parents won't let them use their cell phone until next week, or how their boyfriend wasn't talking to them. If only they knew that they had it good. I was never allowed to have a cellphone, and especially not converse with a male. But I kept these things to myself, for fear of them thinking I was lame and not wanting to hang out with me anymore, but also because my parents didn't aprove of anyone else.

If only I understood what was wrong with me that made my parents act differently. I started searching for answers.