Anna And The Terrible No Good Very Bad Day (Farkas)

Mini prompt: Down Bad

Lately there has been something off about Anna. Odd, unusual, out of the ordinary, and she refuses to talk about it. At this point I’m not even sure she’s aware of it, but something is up. She’s jittery, seemingly anxious, whiny, and prone to sometimes intense mood swings. One moment she’ll be threatening an annoying and not particularly trustworthy merchant, and the next she’ll be sweet and asking for a hug. When asked what’s wrong her only response is “pain.” with no further elaboration. All I know is she is experiencing pain somewhere, but she does not tell me where, how bad it is, or how long it’s been there. As I sit across the room watching Anna make and scratch out a to do list I attempt to think of a plan to get her to talk. Now under what circumstances does she divulge information she wouldn’t usually tell a soul? That thought gives me an idea that I keep in mind for later, waiting until the time is right.

It takes another day or two for all the circumstances to align for my plan to be enacted. One of the more recent yet not overly surprising developments has been a want of intimacy, though interestingly enough she seems uninterested in actual human touch and staunchly refuses to wear anything less than a tee shirt and shorts. That of all things gives me a clue as to where the pain problem might be originating from. Once satisfied enough with a few well placed touches and a kiss or two Anna flops against the mattress with a happy and somewhat stupid smile, content to just lay there for a while. “Are you going to tell me where it hurts now?” I ask leaning over her and her expression changes rapidly to a frown and a glare of annoyance. However I do at least get an answer as she points downward toward her lower abdomen and mumbles about something being bad. I sit back, my theory seems to have been correct. “Anna, did you get your period? Is that why you’re in pain?” To that question I get a barely audible but clearly annoyed “Yes.” Though the annoyance seems to be more directed at her own body than at me. “Why didn’t you just say so?” To that she shrugs, and informs me that it shouldn’t have happened in the first place, there’s a reason certain medications exist, and that is one of them. I seem to have opened the floodgates to what I find has been three weeks of repressed hormonally induced frustration, annoyance, and above all no insignificant amount of pain. At least she does seem to be feeling slightly better with the endorphins rushing through her system and ranting about the workings and mistakes of the human body. We all cope with pain in different ways, it seems this is one of hers.