Full Disclosure, p.42

Monday morning, and what a glorious morning it is! As soon as my eyes opened I saw them. Mama had draped some new clothes across my little green table. There were two skirts, both short, above the knee, one denim with faux suede trim and front button closures and pockets, the other black and had see-through lace with a nude nylon lining. They were not new, but gently used and very nice. I loved them both.

I played with several ways to do my hair then went to the toilet to pee.

I stood to flush and then saw the blood in the water. My genitals have been sore lately, but I thought that was from sex with Billy – what little we did do. I swiped some toilet paper across my scrotum and it turned up bloody. After fetching my mirror from my two-drawer chest, I sat back on the potty and examined myself. I spread my scrotum with two fingers of my right hand and held the mirror with my left. It only took a second to see where the blood came from. The centerline of my scrotum had a small opening a half-inch long. Panic swelled in my chest. The little tear still bled so I got a big period pad from my drawer and put it in my panties. I finished dressing. After breakfast, and after us kids cleared the kitchen, I pulled the doctor’s card from the front pocket of my new skirt and dialed.

I explained everything to him. He said the centerline was a perineal raphe and there are other raphes in the human body. One is in the brain! He said that in pre-natal development the perineal raphe is open in both males and females. It develops into labia in females, and a scrotum in males. He took another look at the CT scans and said that he thinks the lower end of my deformed uterus has developed a birth canal, or vaginal canal that it has opened to the surface somehow. He said that I must come into the office as soon as possible. I told him that I could take the bus after school and drop by. He asked for Mama so I went and fetched her. A few minutes later Mama and the doctor fixed it so I could go see the doctor by myself.

There were two girls in front of me on the school bus. They knew that I was seeing Billy so they started talking about his sexual exploits loud enough so I could hear. I was sad that they such a had a low opinion of him. They went on and on about him and his old girl, Monique. Most of what they said was untrue, but there were things about Monique that I had not heard. Even untrue, it hurt my heart to listen. I sat and stared out the window.

We made the last turn on State Street that runs alongside the school, and there is Billy with his arm around a little brown-haired, white girl. He kissed her! My Billy kissed that girl!

Oh! Oooo! I stomped my foot! He turned and saw me! Our eyes met. His eyes went wide! The two girls in front of me giggled and glanced back at me. My heart snapped in two like a twig. The brown-haired girl who had walked away from Billy wore a nice coat with fur around the collar. I can’t afford a nice coat. I started crying my eyes out!

I did everything, I mean everything I could to hide my crying. I swiped tears with my fingers. I took my backpack, wiggled it off while in line to get off the bus, and then buried my face in it. I stepped off the bus and it was chilly this morning, so much so you could see your breath. My breath steamed up my backpack as I turned away from Billy’s direction and tried to walk toward my building. I felt a tug on my pack. I knew who it was before I looked.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Billy said. I trotted away from him.

Hurt slammed me all the way down to my fingertips. “You might as well have stabbed me with Angel’s knife!” I cried. “I will not live through this! And I’ve got important things today, tests,” I said and stomped my foot again, “and now this! You may as well just go ahead and kill me!” I screamed and cried. I was making a scene.

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The blasé, twisted. The ennui wound around in a new way. Normality goes all twisty as lifelong friends find themselves catching feelings for one another. Don’t yawn too hard, there is a twist in the end that will catch you by surprise. This was my submission to a writing contest. I did not win, as usual, but I wrote the best story I could at the time and under the circumstances. There was a 1500 word limit, so I had to say everything quickly.

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