"Hey, Brian how's it going?" Dean cheerfully said, flopping down on the common room couch. Brian sighed quietly as Dean and his three loud friends invaded what had a few minutes ago been a quiet relaxing area. The four boys popped open small cans of Raineer and turned on the television.
"Hi Dean," Brian said. "Hi.... guys." Sitting at the table behind piles of books and papers he tried to crawl back into the mindstate of concentration but it was like he had lost the key. His notes seemed scattered and he lost his place in the book.
“Dude so then Jennifer was like ‘what’s a keg stand’ and you know she was like totally wearing a skirt or some shit,” Dean said.
Brian put his head in his hands in exasperation.
“No way, a skirt?” Carl, one of his meathead friends echoed.
“Bro, I don’t know; I’m not a homo,” Dean said.
“Hey can you guys please try to keep it down?” Brian said.
“What’s up, Brian? Why you gotta be pissy? You on your period or something?” Dean asked.
“No. What? No, I’m sorry. I just have a test tomorrow so I’m trying to study.”
“Why you got these crazy mood swings? Did the shoe store sell out of shoes?” Dean said.
“Nice one!” Two of the frat brothers high fived each other.
“Did you take forever to get ready and then by the time you were ready the mall wasn’t open anymore?” Dean asked.
“Sorry I brought it up. Never mind. I didn't think it would have been that much to ask to just whisper in the common room or go somewhere else."
Dean laughed and said, "Yeah I'll whisper, into your pussey!"
"Just ignore me,” Brian said.
“Maybe he was on his way to the mall but his sense of direction was so bad he couldn’t find it,” Dean said.
“Ohhh shit, can’t do any shopping without a mall,” Carl said.
“Fine. I’ll go to the library,” Brian said. He stood up and began to gather his papers and notes and put them in his bag. He put his sweatshirt on.
“Sorry, Brian,” Dean said. “I didn’t know it was your time of the month.”
“Shut up, idiot,” Brian said.
Just then Brian felt something warm between his legs. He stood there glaring at his classmates with his books and bag in hand. Hot dampness began pooling on his inner thighs and Brian thought he was sweating from frustration. But the warmth and plethora of the swampy liquid surprised him. Less than a millisecond later a river of blood rushed down his thigh out the hole of his basketball shorts. Little droplets of blood splashed and splattered onto the floor between his feet, angrily spraying at first in a Jackson Pollack design and then pooling together in a smooth small pool of blood. His friends gaped at him in silent horror.
Embarrassed, Brian tugged on his now wet basketball shorts. The screams of his parents echoed silently in his head and he stared frozen at the mess on the floor. Demons snuck into his thought, clutching around any sort of positivity and squeezing and squelching any smile in his heart. Sharp pains cut through his chest. A dark shadow came over his vision, creeping into his thoughts and pushing him farther from the room, from his schoolwork, from his life. Tiny globs of blood clung to his sticky leg hair and shellacked his goosebumpy skin. The sludgy pond of blood continued to grow and ripple, edging out to almost touch his sneakers. Brian tried to move out of the way. It bulged and oozed more like a gel than a liquid. Its consistency held together like a solid but a stream of fresh liquid blood poured into it like red sludgy pudding or ghostbusters slime.
“What… the… fuck…” Dean gasped.
Brian’s face burned bright red, and as he blushed, the flood of period blood came more freely. He ducked his head and turned away from his acquaintances. He held his books to his chest, scrunched his shoulders into himself. As the blood rushed down his leg, equally warm and embarrassing tears began to pour from his eyes. He slowly walked out of the common room wordlessly, a trail of blood droplets falling to the ground beneath him in a bloody Hansel and Gretal breadcrumb river oozing after him as he left.