I DON'T REMEMBER falling asleep, but I woke up with the worst cramps in the history of cramps. I brought my hand down to my stomach and groaned in reaction to the throbbing pain. Despite the fact that I took a nap, I couldn't have felt more exhausted. The events that took place after school left me mentally and physically drained. When I sat up on my bed, I felt something damp in between my thighs and spotted a large red stain in the center of my sweatpants.

Mother Nature couldn't have come at a worst time, I thought to myself as I swung my legs over my bed. I stripped down my clothes and placed my bloody sweats into the laundry hamper. I decided to trash my underwear upon realizing that I wouldn't be able to get that big of a stain out and jumped in the shower.

I poured my favorite body wash on my shower loofah and rubbed some over my body in attempt to clean myself up faster. The smell of vanilla beans filled my nostrils as I ran my loofah over my skin, washing away any traces of dirt and grime. After rinsing off, I set my loofah on the shower handle so that it could dry and grabbed a fluffy towel from the drying rack.

As I stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway in my towel, I stopped in my tracks upon hearing two people yelling downstairs. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and walked closer to the stair railing, so I could hear the voices better. I recognized the sound of my father's deep voice almost instantly but had trouble figuring out who was the other person he was talking to.

"Now, I'm sure this has got to be one big misunderstanding," My father started by saying. "What you just described to me doesn't sound like my daughter at all."

"Well, your daughter has been trying to manipulate my son into giving up his future, and I won't stand for that," The other man argued.

"With all due respect Mr. Twist, are you even sure that football is what Harry wants? Have you talked to him about his hopes and dreams or is shoving football and law school down his throat all you ever do?" Dad retorted.

I felt my heartbeat accelerate upon the mention of Harry's and Mr. Twist's names and gripped the stair railings tighter. I couldn't believe word about what happened had reached my father already. I bit my lip and contemplated whether or not I should return to my room. With the shake of my head, I fastened the towel underneath my arms and continued eavesdropping. Mr. Twist laughed at my father's question, but it wasn't one of those ha-ha that's so funny laughs. I anxiously awaited his response.

"Of course, I've spoken to Harry about all of this," Mr. Twist replied with a certain edge to his tone. "He wants this just as much as I do. Instead of worrying about what it is I do with my family, you should be more focused on that tramp you call a daughter."

Silence followed Mr. Twist's statement, and I couldn't prevent tears from stinging my eyes again. I waited for my father to say something--anything to defend me--but only silence prevailed. When I figured I couldn't stand there anymore without giving myself away, I blocked everything out and walked back into my room. I cried quietly into the palm of my hand and slid down against my bedroom door once it closed.

If I thought it hurt when Harry didn't come after me, the pain I felt was ten times worse when my own father couldn't even come to my defense. I tried to prevent myself from hyperventilating by controlling my breaths, but the task proved to be a difficult one. Over and over again, I asked myself what I did to deserve this. I always knew it would be risky to get involved with a guy like Harry, but I never expected to fall head over heels in love with him. That is what made the pain I was feeling even worse.

In that moment, I had never been more desperate to have my mother around than now. If she were still alive, I know she'd be able to console me with her soothing words. My mother always knew exactly what to say to get me to calm down ever since I was young. Even though she was a psychologist, my mother never made me feel like my mind was something to be prodded and picked at as a subject of hers. I appreciated that she could use the skills from her work life to help her become a better parent. I could always confide in her about my concerns and count on her to give me good advice.

Eventually, the tears managed to stop flowing, but I remained on the ground. I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes and released a shaky breath. I let a moment pass before I finally got up from the floor and began taking care of myself. Not too long after I finished adorning my body with clothes, I peeled back the duvet covering and slid into my bed.

I concluded that now wouldn't be the best time to face my father since there would be tension between us. I was a little hungry, but sleep sounded much more appealing to me at this point. If I could, I would sleep the rest of high school away and wake up when it was time to begin college. I stared up at the ceiling of my room until my eyes grew heavy, and I could barely keep them open.

A small part of me worried that the events that had taken place today would haunt me in my dreams if I succumbed to the sleep, but I ended up dreaming of one of the days my mother and I spent together when I was just four years old. She let me try on all of her adult sized clothes and shoes and experiment with different hairstyles. The memory of us giggling and bonding brought a smile to my face. For the rest of the night, my mind was free of any inhibitions and filled only with thoughts of the love my mother had shown me.

Author's Note:

Hey everyone. I hope you've been enjoying your weekend so far. College has definitely been keeping me busy. I actually got back from my Sea Kayaking trip in the Santa Cruz island on Thursday and get to register for classes in a few hours so I'm super excited about that.

Feel free to vote, comment, share this story with a friend, or follow me on wattpad. I'd greatly appreciate it. Shoutout to @niallislife_93 for all of the amazing comments she left on the chapters of my story!

Question for my readers: How would you have reacted if someone called your child a tramp in front of your face?

Personally, I'd be really upset and voice my anger.

—
Kaylandia