I hate my first period. I used to love it, until a year back.
As soon as the school bell rang, we would all finish our chit chat at the corridor and hurry into the classroom. My first period was English. And our English teacher was our new class teacher.
I used to love the subject as well as the teacher. She was very sweet. She never used to scold us. In fact, she used to tell a lot of stories which had lot of moral values in them. She inspired us. She was a rolemodel. She was a perfect example of how a teacher should be. We all loved her.
And at the tender age of 11, which student would like a subject if he/she doesn’t like the teacher?
I thoroughly enjoyed her class. Other classes would not feel that great. But I used to look forward to going to school, because we had such a brilliant start to our days.
This happened for nearly 6 months. Then things changed. My class teacher had to quit school, in the middle of the year due to some personal reasons.
Then our happy times ended. We had a new class teacher. In fact, she was our maths teacher. And one of the most hated teachers in school.
And I was no exception. She used to scold all students. She had a special hatred for me too, as I am not the usual first bench type girl who listens to her class eagerly and answers back her questions. I am the back bencher who doesn’t listen to her class, does a lot of chit-chat and invariably gets low marks in maths.
One can’t fault me, as I never understood what she taught. So I would remain blank if she asked me any question.
“Stupid Reema. You can keep on chatting for hours together. But you can’t answer this simple question” she used to humiliate me in front of everyone. In a sense, she was a perfect example of how a teacher should not be. She was a complete contrast to our English teacher.
One fine day, she humiliated me so much that I wrote an Instagram post comparing her with a devil, masking her name, ofcourse. And holy shit. It got viral among my classmates and the other school mates. And it somehow reached her too.
Nowadays, every parent and teacher uses social media. And yeah, they stalk children like us from time to time.
She got so upset that she called me in person and threatened me that she would reduce my grades. She forced me to apologize to her and with a lot of embarrassment, I did.
I thought she would spare me after that. But from that day onwards, she had a grudge against me. And I knew, her hatred for me had reached epic proportions by then. And her humiliations continued. In fact, the intensity of her humiliations increased.
Once, when I didn’t answer her question, she shamed me
“How many boyfriends do you have? Reema. Why don’t you have time to sit and study at home?”
I was so embarrassed that I nearly started crying. I am a strong girl, but it was too much to bear that day. I mean, why she should try to demean my character?
There were many such humiliating episodes. All of them left deep scars in me and reduced my self esteem. She was the only teacher who was capable of making the students feel at their all time low.
Worse yet, she had become our class teacher. And I still remember that dreaded day, it was her first day in her new role as our class teacher.
By the time, school bell rang, everyone went into the classroom. But this time, without any zeal. The fact, that I felt a bit tired that day from the morning, didn’t help me too.
After saying our Good morning on her entry, she started her bullshit advice.
“Students, from today, it won’t be a cakewalk for you. Your first period won’t be a noisy park anymore. For me, discipline is the most important thing. You understand that?”
Few students reluctantly nodded. That sort of set the tone for my already dull day.
Then she went on with solving some crappy problem.
Then she started asking questions to the students. As usual she started pointing out students from the last bench. But luckily, she started with the boys side. So I felt I still had time to stand up and as usual, say nothing and get punished.
But all of a sudden, I was feeling very tired. I found it difficult to concentrate on the things that were happening around me.
By that time, Zaakir, a last bench student started
“Miss, I need to go to bathroom.”
She immediately suspected that this might be a prank, but let him go.
Then, moments later, another of last bench student started asking the same.
This time, she became furious.
“Nonsense. Are you playing with me? How come everyone wants to go to the bathroom at the sametime?”
“Wait till the end of the class. Then you can go.”
“Please miss. Please miss. It’s very urgent.”
“The scale is still at my desk. Should I bring it here?” threatening the poor student.
Listening to it, he sat down.
There were at least 4 students till it was my turn. It would take another 10 minutes after humiliating the other students.
I started feeling discomfort in my lower abdomen. It felt like a cramp. I had slight discomfort in the morning, but it was kinda ok then. But now, it was getting intense.
I also felt a similar pain in my back muscles.
My stomach cramp was getting so severe that I bent down and tucked down my tummy a bit.
I was starting to feel dizzy by now. My cramps had become stronger and I couldn’t sit properly. I bent so much that, if someone saw me, they would have felt I was lying down resting my head on the bench.
Few minutes later, she had started with the girls row too. Kasturi was the first girl to get attacked. Next was my turn
By now, I was extremely exhausted. I had also got headache and I was now feeling nauseous. It was time to head to the washroom.
“But will she allow me? Maybe she would think it’s a prank. How can I prove that it’s for real.” I thought. But all this pain was too much to bear. So I decided to ask.
So I stood up slowly. It was almost impossible to stand up due to the pain.
“Miss, Can I use the washroom? I am not feeling well.” I asked.
Her looks became more serious.
“Oh Miss Instagram. Answer me one thing. How come you want to go to the washroom exactly when it’s going to be your turn to answer?”
“Miss. Please miss. I am having stomach ache. I need to use the washroom now. Please.” I said.
“Oh my dear poor girl. You aren’t well. And you want me to believe you. Why don’t you shut up and sit down?”
“What an acting? You have a decent chance at an acting career. But I doubt if you will score even 10 marks this time.”
“Miss…” I pleaded.
“I said shut up. You can go after the class.” she said, raising her voice.
I got scared and so embarrassed, that I sat down. My head was becoming too heavy.
My lips were getting dry. I tried to wet my lips with my tongue. I was feeling very nauseous by now. I was feeling very dizzy too. I reached out for my sipper and sipped some water. I felt a bit better. So I drank more water. Luckily, my nauseous feeling slowly started subsiding. But the stomach ache was still there, troubling me. It was kinda pulling me down.
Then I started to feel that my bladder getting fuller. I thought it was due to the water that I drank. By now, my friend was getting humiliated.
“Oh God. What should I do now?” I thought as it felt like my bladder was about to leak anytime. I have never had such a feeling in my entire life. The rush was so intense that I wanted to pee at any cost.
My headache was also unbearable. But the most bothersome thing was the rush. I thought it’s better to run to the washroom and then apologize to her. But then I lost control. I started peeing. At least that’s what I thought.
“Oh my God. What the hell?” I thought. I was terrified. I was so embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do. What would friends think? There were boys all around. “Oh my God, what position did you put me in?”
But it was very little, like a little leak. It was a strange feeling. I had never had such feeling. Also the smell was different.
Then I took out my handkerchief and thought of wiping it off.
I took it and reached for my undies. I could feel wetness on my skirt as well. I wiped it off. It felt thicker than normal pee. But it was too embarrassing to watch what it was. I had to finish up before she asks me to stand up.
But alas. She saw me slipping my hand underneath the bench.
She felt something was suspicious and she asked me to get up.
“What’s that? What are you doing?”
“It’s nothing Miss. It’s it’s nothing.” I replied slowly standing up.
“Show me what’s in your hands?”
“Oh my God. This is going to be so embarrassing.” I thought
“No Miss. Please.”
“Show it stupid.” she ordered.
In fear, I revealed the handkerchief.
I was shocked to see that it was red in colour. It was blood.
“Oh God. What happened?” I thought.
Everyone were shocked to see. Students from other benches wanted to get a peek on the scene.
“Missssssss…… Look here….” Kasturi shouted, pointing at where I was sitting.
I turned back to see blood stains. It was so thick red in color.
“Oh my God. You’ve got your period. Come. Let’s go to the washroom first. Ayyamma.” she started calling.
Then I cleaned up, they called my mom. My mom came with a spare dress. She took me home. Then she told me that it was my first period. I was literally in a state of shock for the next few days.
I was too embarrassed to go to school again. I couldn’t go back, as I felt so embarrassed. What would other students say about me? They would tease me a lot. I just felt I wanted to change school.
I was given plenty of encouragement from my mother and father that, it was quite a normal thing for women. They apologized for not having taught me about this earlier. They felt that I wasn’t ready yet and I wasn’t aged enough. They also didn’t pressurize me and wanted me to take my time before going to school. They took a week off and we roamed that entire week.
After a few days, I was feeling better. Not so much embarrassed. Finally, I made up my mind to go to school again.
I went to school after 5 days. Seeing me, everyone at the corridor stopped talking and became calm. With bowed head trying to hide my embarrassment, I silently went in.
One year later, I am at the corridor again. This time, a different class, a different class teacher. The school bell rang. We all went in.
The class teacher is good. I like the subject. But from that dreaded day onwards, I don’t know about my other periods, but I always hate my first period.
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Behind the Scenes:
This story was inspired from the novel Carrie by Stephen King.