Love Lost

fOuR

Sierra's phone was blowing up with news of her late "lover's" death. The paparazzi were all over her, barely giving her space enough to breathe.  It was too much.  Sierra rolled over in bed with a groan, finally picking up her mobile to check the time.  It was 1:52.  She'd slept the day away.  Her head slammed back into her pillow.  She didn't want to face today.  Especially not in light of everything that's happened.

Sierra didn't have a choice though.  She got up out of bed, reluctance in every step down the hall to the laundry room.  Yawning, Sierra retrieved her clothing out of the washer. 

"Wow.  Lestoil never ceases to surprise," she mumbled to herself, a twinkle in her eyes.  Her once bloodstained clothes were now spotless all thanks to a trick her mom taught her when she was 13...and had her very first period. 

"Stop crying, my love.  Your shorts aren't ruined forever." Mami insisted, grabbing your hands. 

You sniffled.  "But, mami, they're not white.  They can't be bleached."

Mami's hands moved up your arms and squeezed your shoulders.  "M'hija, blood can be taken out by more than just bleach.  All is not lost."

You smiled through your tears as Mami filled the sink with water and Lestoil before putting your cyan blue shorts in to soak.  Mami pinched your cheek and left the room. 

The next day, she put them in the washer and dryer and within the week, you were wearing your favorite pair of shorts, and they were spotless.  Not a drop of blood in sight.  Your mother was a miracle worker. 

Sierra transferred the load from washer to dryer with more spring in her step and a smile upon her lips.  There was no longer a trace.  She was going to be okay.  Now, the nosy fucking paparazzi just needed to get out of her face and everything would be perfect.