Skip to content

Inquisitive: Part 9

Hassan_Illo

By Hassan Izzo

The woman, or rather, my ‘mum’, looked pretty confused for a minute, before her chirpy disposition returned. “Unusual, but OK.”

“Thanks…. mum.” Mum left the room and I stared up at the ceiling and pondered a few things, one of them being, what is it that girls have to do again when they have a period? My mind once again reassembled everything I’d heard and learnt and it came to rest on one point of fact: that there was something that had to go inside. I felt like crying. This situation would have to be addressed yet that was true for a whole host of things. I kicked the covers off, swung my legs onto the floor and stood up. As I did so I became aware that my lower back was very sore, as was my stomach. I rubbed them both as I tottered around the room, all the time avoiding looking down at my thighs or anywhere near ‘that’ region. On her desk I found the book she had been reading the day before.

It was called Infinite Jest and it was pretty hefty. I picked it up and flicked through the pages before the girl’s Charles Dickens calendar on the wall caught my eye. Specifically, it was a date one week from now – April 30th – that piqued my interest. It was circled and had a little caption. When I stepped over and took a closer look, I saw that the little handwritten note read ‘my 13th birthday.’ I absolutely couldn’t believe it. I was twelve? I was just a little girl of twelve years? Surely there had to be a mistake. I proceeded to go through everything in the room, from school books to diaries to the blog she had online.

After I had finished my hastily undertaken assessment, there was nothing to say other than that this girl –Claire Haywood – had been a ridiculously precocious twelve year-old who was a straight A student and read books like Lolita and The Odyssey and the fucking Infinite Jest, which, after having another quick look through, I found impenetrable. I mean, here I was, a boy that had been three years older than her and I was categorically not in the same intellectual league as this twelve year-old girl. I didn’t have time to dwell on this or anything else I’d found during my quick ransacking of Claire’s belongings because breakfast was waiting for me. This was evidenced by the smell of bacon wafting up from downstairs, which alerted me to the fact that I was brutally hungry.

 

13

Breakfast passed without incident and now I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, admiring my face from all angles. It was in truth a very pretty face to look at, with big brown eyes and a dainty nose and lips. I have also to admit that my hair – brown and shoulder length – was ridiculously nice to touch. Still, even though this was now my body, for the time being I was in a state of feeling like an invader, a feeling that stopped me from having a look at my whole body. Of course I was curious to have a proper look at everything but it felt weirdly voyeuristic to do so. The problem was that I had to shower because of the blood, a problem I overcame by staring straight ahead as I did so and letting the water just run down my body without actually touching myself.

Afterwards, I dried myself off in my bedroom and began to get dressed, using a photo of myself on the wall to piece together what my school uniform was. As for how to deal with the period problem, I couldn’t face doing anything else other than wadding up some tissue paper and stuffing it down my knickers. Dressed and ready, I looked at myself in my bedroom mirror. There I was, in a white shirt, red tie, maroon blazer, blue skirt, white socks, and black shoes. I’m an actual girl.


 

Hassan Izzo

Like any other writer, Hassan Antonio Izzo is happiest when he is sat at his desk putting words down on paper; whether it be updating his blog, working on a short story, script, poetry, journalism, or wrestling with his first novel. If anything stands a chance of getting him away from his desk, a few drinks with friends would stand a good one. His biggest claim to fame is that Quentin Tarantino loved his Mr T t-shirt when he met him; which was pretty cool.

A proud South Londoner, you can follow on Twitter @Hassanizzo86

2 Comments »

Leave a Reply to hassanizzo Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: