It was four years after the peak, and I was fifteen. Yet, physically, I was still the same short, flat-chested girl I was at age eleven.
I was sitting on the living room couch between Dea (who was eight at the time) and Gina (who was four months pregnant). Gina informed me that her due date was September 17, the same as my birthday. Gina then got up and left. I didn't know it at the time, but I had just started menstruating.
Normally, with a little discretion, a young woman can keep her first period private. Unfortunately, I was not allowed that option. Mine left a large, bright red stain on the living room couch for everyone to see. Dea saw the blood before I did. She belted out a loud, hysterical scream. At least a dozen people came rushing in, and they all saw the blood on the couch and my pants.
"Samber is hurt!" squealed Dea. "Samber is bleeding!" I was mortified! People were staring at me for a long time before Nichole elbowed her way past the gawkers. "Everything is going to be fine," she reassured. "Let's go get you cleaned up." Nichole led me to my room and brought me some washcloths.
A couple of minutes later, my mother came in, and she gave me some of her pads. I looked at them. They were so thick, I thought I'd have to walk like John Wayne. I put one on, and I was sure everyone would see what felt like a mattress between my legs.
I came back into the living room a short while later. That's when Donna's dog, Bender, walked into the room. He sniffed around, found my stain on the couch, and (in full view of ten people) licked it. Loudly, and in unison, the spectators blurted out various expressions of disgust. Thus, within minutes, EVERYONE knew I was menstruating.
Poor timing ruined what could've been a fun and exciting rite of passage for me. I was grumpy the rest of the day.
That night, my father gave me a goodnight kiss. He sat down next to me and was especially affectionate and attentive. I didn't give it much thought at the time, but I know now he must have realized his little girl was becoming a young woman. I suppose it was a rite of passage for him as well.
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Agoraphobia
General FictionA heroic eleven-year-old girl struggles to survive in a dying world plagued by a contagious form of agoraphobia (fear of being outside).
