The box of tampons is blue and green, strong colours that pity the pinks and purples of sanitary towels. To Sara, these tools are for the strong ones who don’t think twice about using them – The Worthy Ones. Sara scowls at the cardboard shell on the edge of the sink, pretending to be more determined than terrified. The memory of her last attempt twelve years ago itches at her. It had ended in a forty-five-minute crying fit, a mouth numb from ice cream and a vow never to try again for fear of dying. She woke up an hour ago, brushed her fingers over the warm spot between her legs and found the wet and red she went in search of. The impending cycle was the reason that her leggings were black and the disappointment that her sheets were white. Twenty-five years old. Thirteen years of bleeding. Her one hundred and fifty-fourth-ish period and it’s still something she fails to embrace.
نظرات کاربران