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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Lame Journal of a Wantbe Artist - 3. Chapter 3- Flower of Life

 
 

Georgia O' Keeffee, American artist most known for her flower paintings once said, "I feel there is something unexplored about women that only a woman can explore."

So dear lame journal,

I was staring at myself in the mirror this morning. I now have armpit hair. Great. I'm never going to wear sleeveless shirts again. From now on its only long sleeves. That goes for the legs too.

Another thing I was noticing...my chest. I know that sounds really weird. But lately, they've been like...coming out. I've kind of been thinking about that bra. It's still in the cardboard box next to my bed. I've been thinking that it might kind of cool to try it on. But I don't know.

***

Big Eyes was extremely happy. Like annoying happy.

"Today is a wonderful day." she cheered.

She was always a positive person but something was up.

"Okay, why are you so happy? Come on, seriously what's up with you?"

She started blushing. Then she opened her hands and began to raise them. She has to be so dramatic.

"I, am now a woman."

I chuckled, "What are you talking about?"

She blushed again and took both my hands. Whoa, they were warm.

"I got my period this morning." she perked, "My very first period. Womanhood knocked on my door and I said 'come on in'."

Of course, she would be the one to get all excited about that.

In case you're curious, I got mine like a year or so ago. Not much of a story. Woke up. Toilet full of blood. Now that'll the beginning of every month for like the rest of my life.

But of course, to Big Eyes was a glorious event.

"I'm thieving. I'm like a flower going like this" She said doing some kind of hand motion.

She's so weird...yet so adorable.

Then we headed to Mr. Big Bird classroom. But I saw something. Something pretty bad. Baseball talking, no just talking but like flirting, with this other girl in class, let's call her...Lipstick. Okay I know it's not like Big Eyes had any claim over him, but ...still. I quickly covered her eyes.

Then she walked in and saw it. Then stepped right back out and slid down the locker. I, of course, slid down beside to consult my little flower.

She turned to me with those cute brown eyes, "I wish we were the only girls in the world."

I nodded, "Me too."

***

Mr. Big Bird was talking about some war. Something about a snack wrap. Big Eyes was too distracted by Baseball and Lipstick to take notes for us. Mr. Big Bird looked over at me. I could tell by his face, he was wondering about her as she usually paid more attention. I motioned to Baseball and Lipstick. He seemed to ache for her.

***

I found her at her locker mopping. Then to make things worse, Lipstick walks up.

"Hey, so what's your deal with the new boy?"

God, she's so mean. Pretty. But mean.

Big Eyes took a deep breath, "Nothing. Why?"

She chuckled, "I think he's into me. I think he's ready for a real woman. Not just a little girl."

Big Eyes slams the locker, "Wait, wait, wait. I, am no girl." She perked, "I got my period. So Booyea"

Lipstick laughed, "That doesn't make you a woman."

"Yes it dose."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes it dose."

"No, it doesn't."

They went on like this for a while. I finally interrupted.

"Then what does make you a woman?"

She rolled her eyes, "Come on GIRLS, its boys. You're not a woman until your first kiss with a boy."

"Really?" We both went.

Then I smirked, "Like you've really kissed a guy."

"I've kissed two."

"Are you gotta kiss...him?" Big Eyes asked looking like a sick little puppy dog.

"Oh I'll do way more with him." Lipstick flipped her hair and walked away.

***

"Do you think he will sit us or her?" Big Eyes said as we sit down at lunch.

She's obsessed.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

Baseball started to walk up to us...until Lipstick dragged him off.

"So what kind movies do like. We should totally go together," she said deicing to pull on her skirt up for some reason.

Then Big Eyes being actually unlike Big Eyes, got up and actually talked to Baseball.

"Hey."

"Hey." he smiled.

"I don't think you should go to movies with her."

He raised an eyebrow and smiled more, "Why not?"

I think he really wanted her to say because she liked him. Of course, she didn't "directly" say that.

"Because I...would like to go to the movies...you with."

Then Lipstick's eyes grew as big as golf balls.

"Hey" she snapped, "I asked him first."

Baseball nodded, "Yes, you did."

He turned back to Big Eyes, "But I would like to...go to movies with you."

Lipstick got up and like stormed out of the cafeteria.

Now I kind of can't help but like Baseball a little more.

***

So I was on the phone with Big Eyes, when I got home tonight. We were still trying to sort out this whole "becoming a woman" thing.

"So do you think she is right?" Big Eyes went, "About you know, kissing boys."

"I don't know," I said caring in another box of clothes.

She started ranting, going back and forth on the subject. Then I heard Mr. Harris laughing in the background.

"What's up with your dad?"

She huffed then said, "He's on the phone with 'The Amazing Spider-man'."

Spider-man is apparently Mr. Harris's best friend, but I don't think he's real. One, I can't picture Mr. Harris having an actual life. He's just Big Eyes's dad. Like he has friends. Two, I don't believe someone as boring and weird as Mr. Harris was best friends with someone like 'The Amazing Spider-man' who was poplar and rebellious. I swear all of his stories sound like they're from some old TV show.

I was now walking past my mom's room. She was changing form her pink uniform to her blue uniform. She spotted me, "Oh hey Georgia."

I gave a quick nod and went into my room. She followed me for some reason.

"So how was school?" she asked.

"I'm on the phone," I smirked.

"Oh hi," she yelled.

"Hi, Ms. Rivera." Big Eyes yelled back.

"She says hi," I told mom.

"Hey George, my mom is calling me for dinner." Big Eyes said, "Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay bye"

"Bye"

I put the box down and hung up the phone. Mom was looking out the window.

"Wow, that woman across from us is really working on something."

I went to the window to check the mystery drawing. She had added flowers.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work mom?"

She checked her phone, "Yea, I need to leave in a few minutes."

I nodded.

"Oh Georgia I almost forgot." she said running back into her room, "I wasn't sure if need any more of them," she called from the other room, "but I got a good deal so I just bought a lot."

She walked in back and handed me a...package of maxi pads. It got me thinking about Big Eyes getting her period.

I looked up at my mom, "Hey can I ask you a question?"

She sat down on my bed, "Okay?"

I awkwardly sat down next to her, "How did you...well when did you...become a woman?"

The first thing she said was, "In the back in Frank Garcia's truck."

I guess one point goes to Lipstick.

Then she realized she was talking to teenage daughter then went, "Um, no. no. no. Don't do that." She paused a few seconds then her phone alarm went off.

That meant it was time for her to leave.

She got up "I'm so sorry, but I really got to go. Maybe we can talk about this later?"

I nodded, "Its okay. I understand."

She blew me a kiss as she walked out.

I started looking at the box. Found another bra.

I kind of wonder if Lipstick wears pretty bras. I'm sure she does.

Why was this so hard? How are we supposed to know when we are women? Is it when we get our first period? Is it when we get our first kiss? Our first date? Is it when we turn 13? 15? 16? Or 18? Is it when we become wives? Or mothers? And when it does happen, how are suppose to know?

Though I honestly I'm starting to think we can't know. Like we're not supposed to figure it out. We have to just live and survive girlhood.

Copyright © 2019 Another Gay Writer; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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