Brand New
CW: Sexual Assault
I was in the bathroom rummaging under the cabinet for my pads. I cursed when I realized I didn’t have any. The movie started in 10 minutes and we hadn’t left the house yet. I decided to yell out to Kacey because we didn’t have time to make a stop.
“I only have a tampon,” Kacey yelled back.
I walked out of the bathroom and looked at her. And then at the tampon in her hand. And then back at her. And then back at the tampon in her hand. She rolled her eyes impatiently.
“Just use it, Jasmine. God you’re so dramatic. We gotta go. We can get pads on the way home.”
“Fine,” I said as I nervously laughed. I straightened my back and took it out of her hand.
“Thanks.” I said softly.
I walked towards the bathroom as my breath quickened. I had never really used a tampon.
At 14, I begged my mom to buy me a box of them from the store. My friends had switched to tampons and they raved about them to me. Apparently they were easier to use and they were more mature than pads. At 14, I thought I was mature. I was starting to come into my own. I wanted to try them too and I asked my mom to buy me a box.
I waited for my period excitedly. When it finally came, I ran to the bathroom and sat on the toilet in preparation while reading the instructions. I mean, it looked easy enough, so I took the wrapping off and was about to put it inside of me when I froze. I strained my hands trying to push past the fear but I couldn’t. I couldn’t put it in me. It was in my hands, my hands attached to my body and I couldn’t do it. My own body was rejecting itself. My own body thought I was a foreigner, though I claimed it as my own.
At that moment I realized I had lost a part of my power. I had lost a part of myself. I had never felt more pathetic and more ashamed. I felt weak. I felt tired. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor cradling my body. I remember looking down at my shaking hands and feeling the painful tears that formed. I remember the hole in my heart expanding, and another part of me shriveling up and dying.
But I was ready now, I told myself. It was time to woman up. I entered the bathroom and gripped the sink to the point of pain. It was the only thing holding me up. I looked in the mirror.
I told myself I couldn’t freeze up. I was stronger now. He took so much from me and I have to take it back. He couldn’t have this. Because it was my body. He didn’t own me anymore.
I nodded to myself in reassurance, breathing heavily.
I sat on the toilet and slowly unwrapped it. I felt my body tense and a burning at the pit of my stomach. I shut my eyes and clenched it around my fingers, the plastic coating digging into my skin. A tear leaked out. I let out a wounded cry as I shoved it in. I bit my cheek in pain as the rest of my tears came coursing out. I forced out the plastic and sat there with my head in my hands and wept.
“Jasmine,” Kacey yelled.
“Yeah. I’m coming.” My voice brightened on instinct as I responded. I wiped my face and slowly stood up, using the sink for leverage. The sensation was uncomfortable but I needed to go. I needed to support my best friend on her birthday. I couldn’t be selfish.
My brain forced my body to move. I watched my feet take its steps as I got closer to Kacey. A few feet away from her the anguish was wiped clean from my face and a smile came in to take its place.
“Ready,” I said, as my heart clenched at the lie.