I'm an artist

****Paint your life with colors, but go organic. Live your life with honours, and don't panick.****

I was a young immature 15 year old. Each month, the visit of Aunt Flo would throw me into a frenzy. I hadn't yet started getting the gift of cramps yet, it would come only the following year. Given that I didn't get any cramping, bloating, the arrival of the dear Aunt sometimes went unnoticed until a wetness in my panties which would go red in embarrassment would warn me.

I hadn't yet got the habit of writing about its probable vist in my appointment book, so most of the time, I was taken unawares. That Monday, I was sitting in class, following attentively the way my classmate was managing to eat without being noticed. She would delicately plunge two of her fingers inside a packet of crisps and they would come out triumphantly clasping one lone crisp. She would then lift it and welcome it with an open mouth, her tongue wrapping expertly around it before it was swallowed deep in the recesses of her mouth. Not a crunch, not a crack, it disappeared out of sight.

Suddenly, I sneezed and I felt the reaction in the form of a spasm in my lower belly. I had never felt my belly sneeze before and I immediately wondered if it was time to wipe its lower nose. With doubt and apprehension clouding my mind, I started counting the dates and after a few seconds, I got the answer I was worried about. Aunt Flo had decided to drop by unannounced.

I had my jacket slung over the back of my chair and I pulled it in my lap. I pulled my bag over my lap as well for a secret tryst with my fingers, which plunged deep inside and then came out. I thrust my hand inside again. but then brought it out again. One final thrust and with a moan, my bag yielded what I wanted: a sanitary pad. I wrapped it in my jacket and I timidly raised my hand and asked for permission to go out. It was granted and I snatched my jacket and ran out. Once outside, I could breathe easier as the corridors were empty.

With a determined pace, I walked towards the toilet. Ah, just a few minutes and then I would be in a state to welcome Auntie. Suddenly, I froze. Coming right out of the toilet were two girls from Upper classes. I didn't know them, and luckily they didn't seem to know me as well. As I walked by them, one of them turned around.

'Hey girl, your uniform is dirty.'

I had had dirty dreams like this. Not the type where you have couples doing what they usually do to toothbrushes and tampons, but the type where you have the suspicious red color at the back of your pants. I've had nightmares where I would be wearing white and then slowly you will find the red color seeping through the material until the entire outfit was a loud red color. This couldn't be happening to me.

My uniform was a dark garnet color already, the color of blood. So, the addition of a dark red spot only made it more maroon in color.

'Oh, that's paint. We had an Art class,' the lie rolled off my tongue easily, but I could see that the girls were not convinced. I looked at them, they looked at me and they left. But I was satisfied. Indeed, it could have been paint. Ah, I was such an artist...

I went in and wore my pad. My jacket was tied safely around my waist, to shield my canvas.

That day, I learnt an important lesson. I should always be ready for surprise visits from aunties. Planning was the key word. And I also understood that I was a pitiful liar, and to improve, I needed more practice.