Blood on the pants

She was in her unique pair of jeans bought in Yugoslavia on her family’s regular cross border shopping trip. She always wore pants. Skirts teased her, she owned some skirts but never dared to wear them in public. She felt uncomfortable in skirts. She was sitting in the 3.a primary class’ school bench in a border town in Hungary, first row just before the teacher. She felt a sudden rush of warmth between her legs. Her underwear has a brown line already. She saw it when she went to the toilet in the morning, and now this … Hopefully it is just drops of pee. If it was blood, it might have soaked through to colour the pants. She already hid one of those precious pants with blood marks between the legs. She hid it up in the cupboard’s top shelf in her room, way way in the back so her mother doesn’t find it, rolled up disappearing in the middle of other grown out clothes. Mother liked cleanliness. She pre-washed every item before she put the clothes in the washing machine. She asked when she found the underwear with the brown line: is this blood? The girl explained she could not hold the poo, so it got coloured. It sounded not too believable, who poos in pants at her age, but better than admitting the blood. She could not have bared her mother's look again, examining the stain, and asking more questions. What if she would find out, even the thought of that made her body shrivel. The solution remained a piece of toilet paper wrapped around the bottom part of the underwear. A tear off of the cotton vatta placed in her pants would show. Skirt, that might hide it, but she could not wear those. The other problem is where to dispose of the vatta so her mother doesn’t find it. The toilet paper did not work the time when the other pair of jeans got bloody. Oh, I hope mother never finds that bloody one, when she cleans. The class goes on, the wet feeling disappears as the underwear and pants become wet with the liquid. The girl just has to see, just has to go and find out and make up a plan. No one can see the blood stain, she is just 9, too early for this, the others don’t have it yet. How they will look at her if they see the red stain as she walks out the classroom. Her hands are wet now, she dries them in her pants. The teacher goes on and on but the girl has no clue, she is making plans in her mind about how to walk out, how to make the stain disappear, so there is no evidence, so that it is not happening to her, not her, not her.