"This is so uncalled for", Glimmer whimpered, feeling betrayed, awakened by the selfish declarations of her bladder at 3:54 AM. She was trying to negotiate some sort of fruitful middle ground between "global" (a fitting word she'd read at the OB-GYN's office) discomfort and any kind of movement that wouldn't push her over into further pain, but she was too sleep-deprived and fatigued for her mind to work at full capacity, so she stayed as she was, lying on her stomach, one hand under her stomach, the other beside her face squished into her pillow, legs crossed, soul weary.
This had all begun sometime past 2 – her neck was feeling very hot and her forehead was beginning to glisten, so movement was necessary, urgently. But with one arm tucked under her pillow and the other sandwiched between thigh and calf, it would take too much from her to undo this position she had arrived at by fluke an hour ago when she'd felt the first light stabs of the night. Temperature discomfort overrode intestinal discomfort in that moment, and she scooched her butt, peeled her covers off her arms and torso, and kicked the rest of it off her legs. Unfortunately but not unexpectedly, the pain worsened, and she tossed and turned for lifetimes before she eventually decided to just straight up hold her uterus pouch hoping it made her feel less like death. Thankfully it had worked but even then she knew it would be temporary and now she really needed to pee, so her vocal reluctance to disturb the peace was quite valid.
Inch by inch she managed to worm her way to the edge of her unnecessarily plush and large mattress. Typically, she is glad for its deluxe comfort but today she would have been content with a simple twin bed. She was fantasizing about being able to roll off in one swift movement when her entire vagina clenched on itself and she nearly passed out. Terrified by the prospect of staining her sheets (and having to exert herself to wash them because she felt deeply uncomfortable leaving (any and especially) that kind of mess for anyone else to clean up after her), she bolted to her ensuite in half the time it took her to complete that thought. She tore off her pajamas and underwear and just as she sat over the bowl, she felt that disgusting squishy clumpiness of a chunk of uterine lining pass as well, and angry, frustrated, annoyed tears came to her eyes. She got up, flushed the toilet and slammed down its lid, turned around and grabbed a pad from the cupboard underneath the sink across her, put it on, and slid her underwear and pajamas back up. As she did, she caught sight of her greasy, lightly green, zombie-like appearance and immediately teared up again, mad at her body and the curse of menstruation, and feeling sorry for herself for now and for what she would go through over the next few days. Flooded by an emotional exhaustion, she slumped to the floor, resigned to the cruelty of her body's whims. She looked over at her bathtub wistfully, sighed a deep and sad sigh, pouted and winced as she shut her eyes and leaned her little head against the cupboard, and was soon asleep.
Glimmer was woken up by her mother walking into her room to wake her up for school at 6:15 AM. She heard her mother's bathrobe swish against itself as she approached her bed, but was pleasantly surprised not to hear her call out, "Glimmer, dear?" and come to the bathroom to her squeeze her hand to wake her up. Instead, she heard her murmur "my poor baby" before swishing away, taking Glimmer's empty mug of tea with her. Glimmer smiled weakly and stretched her legs out over the cold white tiles, mentally preparing herself for a long day ahead. As she'd begun rubbing her strangely sore and puffy face, she heard her mother's familiar swishing and opened her eyes to see her mother bending down to cup her hands around the steaming mug of tea she'd brought her. "Tea, my love", she offered generously, knowing Glimmer's mind might not be present enough to comprehend. She took Glimmer's fuzzy bathrobe off her arm and wrapped it around Glimmer, giving her shoulders a light squeeze when she was done. "Can you stand up, sweetheart?" she asked earnestly while putting down the large magenta hot water bag she'd brought, and Glimmer put her clammy hand out for her to help her up in response. Once she got Glimmer onto her feet, she leaned down and kissed the top of her head and swished out.
Glimmer sipped slowly on her tea, entering the ruminative zone of the typical early morning pre-coffee adult, and noticed that she although she still looked terribly ill and still quite green, she did not feel shaky and wincey like earlier. The tea gave her clarity of thought and comforted her spirit. She recalled that today was a big day for her and she wanted to look, at the very least, presentable, if not extra sparkly as she had hoped. She knew she had no strength to shower but desperately needed to, or at least wash her hair, so like a very smart and very lazy person, she decided to wash her hair in the sink and hot towel the rest. As she did she marveled at the convenience of short hair and noticing how fly the colors looked even months later, her heart was warmed with love for her longtime hairdresser, Ms. Spinnerella. Smiling and humming to herself, she put on her favorite vanilla moisturizer and neatly ironed uniform, and began to pack her backpack with the things she'd taken out last night – her glitter notebook and holographic pencil pouch to go through and add to the notes she'd made during the day, her Psychology and Literature textbooks to read ahead, and her laptop to update her notes blog and study tips YouTube channel. She wore the packed backpack on her stomach and took out a canvas tote from her desk-side drawer, and headed back to the bathroom to get her hot water bag. As she bent down to pick it up off the floor, the dull ache in her back and sides sharpened and she had to sit down. She wondered how much more quality time she'd be spending with the cupboard under the sink this month and started to wonder how a sit-down vanity might work out. She chuckled, dismissing the thought, opened the cupboard and took her period kit with pads, tampons, painkillers and fortifying notes-to-self out, shut the cupboard, put the hot water bag in the tote and slowly got up and headed to the kitchen. She took down a glass for water and set it out on the counter, and got a carrot and the box of grapes out of the refrigerator. She went out to the garage and put her things on the backseat of her mother's car that she would soon get, and on the way back in, grabbed a warm grey uniform sweater-vest off the coat-rack in anticipation of the auditorium AC. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror beside the garage door, she realized she'd forgotten makeup, so she hurriedly filled her glass, chowed down a homemade granola bar and rushed to her vanity to take her meds, put on sunscreen, mascara, glittery lip gloss as highlighter and moisturizing setting spray. She grabbed her extra tube of lip gloss and pocket chapstick and went back for her carrot and noticed it already chopped up and packed into a tiny Tupperware with grapes and almonds and made a mental note to bless her mother extra-sincerely with her Reiki crystals. Holding it to her heart like one would a beloved potted plant, she sent out a beam of grateful and well-wishing vibes toward her mother and headed back to her car to wait. She was beginning to feel drowsy from the painkiller and was out like a bulb in no time.
She was still asleep when they pulled into the driveway of her private school. This time her mother did wake her up with a squeeze of the hand, "Wake up dear, we're here", and Glimmer groggily shuffled out of the old red momvan. She walked over to the back seat and grabbed her backpack, canvas tote, lunch bag and Bow's chart roller, put them all onto her small self, heard her mother say, "I love you, Glimmer" and ducked her head back into the car to say, "I love you too, mum" and politely shut the door. She waited for her mother to drive around the roundabout and wave goodbye before she headed into the building, up a small flight of stairs and slumped directly into her seat without pausing at any of her friends' lockers to slide them wholesome post-its, instead simply smiling and up-nodding those she passed. She shrugged off Bow's "quiver" and slid it over to his desk, set her lunch bag under her own, took the tote off and set it in her lap and shrugged her backpack off. Just as she shifted in her seat and opened her backpack's zipper, she sensed a familiar squelch in her vagina, and, lighting-fast, grabbed a tampon and newspaper envelope out of her period kit and ran to the toilet all the way on the other side of the building, where she had to wait for a full lifetime before she could go into a stall because of a gaggle of freshmen whom she was equal parts considerate and self-conscious in not subjecting to sounds of her ripping a pad off of underwear. Once they'd left, she did everything she needed to as fast and quiet as she possibly could, and with renewed discomfort and a face that expressed it, she returned to her classroom, waddled to her seat, set her backpack down, cradled the tote in her lap, and leaned over and put her forehead directly onto the cool surface of her desk. This was going to be a very long day before it could become an exciting one.
