Waking Up In Blood
TAYLOR
It wasn't unusual for Calvin to wake up early to go for a run, so when I hear him get up this morning, I don't think anything by it. I roll over a readjust myself so that I'm practically curled up in a ball, with the blanked lying abandoned at my ankles.
It's then that I hear shouting, and I spring up, alert. Calvin's voice is loud, sharp. He's yelling at me but I'm too groggy to understand why. The clock says 4:07am, and I blink away my confusion.
"Taylor! You're fucking disgusting!" A surge of panic runs through me as Calvin's voice cuts through the air. I jump out of bed and awkwardly stand by the side table, stiff as a board.
"What's wrong?" I ask, my voice small, and shaky.
A vein throbs in Calvin's forehead, and his hands shake with rage. I feel myself start to tremble. What have I done?
" You bled all over the fucking bed, you bitch!"
It takes a second for his words to register, but when they do my stomach drops. I glance down.
Oh.
There's a pool of red blood on the sheets where I was sleeping. I feel light-headed, and I think I might collapse.
"I- I didn't realize," I stammer, taking a small step back.
"Of course you didn't," he spits, "you're so fucking careless. You think I want to sleep in your filth?!"
I move fast, trying to rip the sheets off, make it disappear, to fix it, but Calvin grabs my wrist. Hard.
My breath catches.
"You're a grown ass woman, Taylor! Who the fuck does this?!" His nails dig into my skin, and I shake my head, my eyes stinging.
"I- I'm sorry. I can fix it! I'll clean it! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
His grip tightens and I can feel my heartbeat in my ears.
"You're fucking disgusting!"
I barely have time to react before his hand collides with my face. A sharp, white-hot pain bursts through my skull. My body lurches back and I collide with the table, the lamp falling off and hitting the ground. My breath comes in short bursts, and I see him standing over me. I shut my eyes tight. Everything in my body tenses, awaiting the next hit.
It doesn't come.
"Clean this shit up." He says, and I hear the door slam.
He's gone. Every part of me feels like it's burning. Not like rosy cheeks, but like a forest fire.
My face throbs, and it takes me a few moments before I can will myself to open my eyes again. The room is empty. He truly is gone. I sit up and my head aches.
Then, slowly, I push myself up. I peel the sheets off the bed, and drop them in the laundry basket. I move slowly, like my limbs are made of sand. I find some new sheets in a drawer, and I robotically remake the bed.
My reflection stares back at me in the dresser mirror. Flushed cheeks, wide, glassy eyes. My lip wobbles. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.
I pick up the lamp and place it back on the side table. The laundry basket is large, and uncomfortable to hold, so I awkwardly carry it to bathroom. My hands are shaky as I grip the sheets and start scrubbing. I take off my shorts and underwear, and wash those too. I don't know how long I stand there. I scrub to all the blood is gone and an angry red mark appears on my face.
My hands feel raw, and sore, and I run them under cold water for a second. I grab some fresh underwear out of my drawers, and step into them and then it hits me.
I don't have a tampon.
The throbbing in my head starts up again. I didn't bring a pad, either. I press my palms into my eyes until I see weird shapes amongst the darkness.
I go to my bag, just to be sure, and there's nothing there. There's nothing in my handbag either. Fuck. My hands shake and tears cloud my vision. I think about wrapping some toilet paper around my underwear and going back to sleep, but then shake my head. I don't want to risk bleeding through again. Calvin's right. I'm a grown ass woman. I should've been prepared.
I scrunch my eyes shut and try to think. I still feel groggy from all the drinks last night, and when I touch my fingers to my skull it hurts. I blink back the pain.
Gigi.
The name flickers through my mind, but I push it away just as fast. No, I can't wake her up. It's way too early in the morning, and this is my problem, not hers. I can't burden other people with this.
A cramp rolls through me and I grip the dresser. I don't have a choice.
I slip out of the room, moving quietly, the house silent around me. Every step feels heavy, like I'm walking through water with bags of rocks tied to my ankles. The walls themselves are pressing in, smothering me more and more with each step. I reach Gigi's door and hover there, frozen. I stand out there staring at the wood for too long, my breath shallow.
I shouldn't do this. I should just wait until morning.
But then I remember Calvin's voice, thick with hatred.
You're fucking disgusting.
I lift my hand, and knock on the door. A few moments pass and I'm afraid I wasn't loud enough, and have to bring myself to knock again. But then the door slowly swings open, and Gigi stands there, groggy and confused. Her hair is messy, and she squints at me.
When she see's it's me, her face softens.
"Tay, you okay?"
I swallow hard. "I-" my voice catches and I wonder if I should forget about this whole thing and run away.
I clear my throat. "Do you have a tampon?"
Gigi blinks, her eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah, of course." She holds the door open. "Come in."
She ruffles through her bag and I stand in the doorway, not sure if I should go in. She walks over and passes me a tampon. I grip it like a lifeline. Her eyes search my face, and I wonder if she can see the red mark in the darkness. I hug myself, and avoid her eyes.
"Are you okay?" Gigi asks, quieter this time.
I force a smile, and my head pounds. "Yeah, just- you know." I hold up the tampon weakly, as if it explains everything.
Gigi doesn't look convinced but she doesn't push. "Ok," she says slowly, "well if you need anything-"
I nod, "thanks, Gigi."
I turn and walk away before she can say anything else. I get back to the bathroom, close the door, and just breath. Another cramp hits me, and I lean against the counter.
"Pull it together." I whisper, looking myself in the eyes.
I put the tampon in and walk downstairs slowly. There's no way I'm sleeping in the bed Calvin and I share when there's a chance I might bleed through again. He just got mad because he was tired, he was out all night. I should've been more considerate.
When I reach the living room I stand at the base of the stairs and listen to the sounds that you only hear at night. The ice machine, the pool filter, the clock ticking. After a few minutes I curl up on the couch and hug myself, letting everything wash over me. I can still see Gigi's eyes, the way they scanned my face. I can hear Calvin screaming at me, still see the vein throbbing in his forehead.
You're so fucking careless! You think I want to sleep in your filth?!
I doubt I'll get much sleep tonight.