When Erin wasn't teaching me, I got to play with my dolls—though I didn't really like those anymore—color in coloring books, paint with the paint Leanne had given me, or listen to music some of the girls would give me. Blues music was my favorite. Carla, one of the girls, told me that it reminded her of New Orleans because they played a lot of saxophones in New Orleans, where blues music was popular. I put New Orleans on my list of places to visit one day.
I had a long list of places I wanted to visit. Hawaii, California, Florida, Alaska, and Greece were among those places, but first, I wanted to see all of New York City. I hadn't been anywhere in my twelve years except across the street to the park, but from what I could see from thirty-four stories in the sky, New York City was a big place. At night was my favorite because all the lights would twinkle and light up the sky, and it was so pretty, almost like a painting. I tried to paint the view from my tiny window. My efforts hadn’t turned out as pretty, but I kept trying.
A knock sounded on my door as I was making my bed, and it opened a crack. "Just making sure you're awake," Erin stated.
"I am." I smiled, fluffing my pillow.
"I'll meet you down in the kitchen."
"I just need to go to the bathroom first."
"Okay, sweetie."
I quickly threw my long blonde hair into a ponytail. It was past my butt and got in the way when I sat or went to the bathroom—it basically always got in the way. Madam wouldn't let me get a haircut because she said my hair was too beautiful to cut, but sometimes Tifarah, another one of the girls, would trim it. If Madam knew about it, she never said anything.
Closing my bedroom door behind me, I walked to the end of the hall to the bathroom I shared with all of the girls. There were six of them; Erin, Carla, Leanne, Clarissa, Bev, and Tifarah. Madam had her own floor and bathroom, but I wasn't allowed to go up there.
The entire house was four stories in the thirty-five story skyscraper. The bottom floor of the house was where the laundry room, the kitchen, and a cleaning storage room was. The chef had a room down there, too. The floor one story up from that was what we referred to as the main floor. The floors were a light gray wood, almost white. Floor to ceiling windows wrapped around the entire living room, and there was a glass staircase that went all the way up to the roof, stopping at each floor first. There were six bedrooms as well, but I'd never seen inside them. The third floor, where the girls and I had our rooms, wasn't as nice as the main floor. Our floor had fewer windows than the main floor, and a long hallway that had bedroom doors on both sides until you made it to my room at the end of the hall. There was no artwork on our floor either unlike the main floor. It was just white walls and white doors. That was why I tried to paint New York City at night. I wanted something pretty for my room. The girls got to have pictures and TVs and books, but I didn't get to because Madam said I was too young.
I locked the bathroom door behind me and went to use the toilet. When I pulled down my pajama bottoms, I saw blood, and I started to panic. Why was I bleeding from down there? Was I hurt in some way?
"Erin!" I screamed, but then I remembered she was on the bottom level waiting for me. "Carla!" I called out. I didn't know who was awake, but I needed help, and I wasn't moving from the toilet. "Leanne! Bev! Anybody!"
The doorknob rattled, and Carla knocked. "Zell, what's wrong? Open the door."
"I'm bleeding!" I cried.
"Open the door." She tried the doorknob again.
I hurried and stood, moving to the door with my pants down and unlocked it before going back to the toilet. "Hurry!"
The door opened, and my friend walked in. "What's wrong?"
"I'm bleeding," I cried again, nudging my head toward the red stain on my pajamas and panties.
"Oh, honey." Her face softened. "You just got your period, that's all."
"My what?"
She reached for something under the sink. "Erin hasn't told you about your monthly visitor?"
I furrowed my brow. "What visitor?"
Carla stood and set a pink, square, pillow-looking thing on the counter. "Aunt Flo."
I shrugged. "I don't know who that is."
She smiled warmly. "She makes you a woman, but don't worry, I'm going to go get you a clean pair of panties and pajamas from your room. Hop in the shower and clean off. Then I'll show you how to put this pad on, and we'll tell Erin today's lesson needs to be about your menstrual cycle."
"Okay." I showered quickly, and then Carla returned and showed me what to do with the pad that was in the pink wrapper. It felt weird between my legs when I pulled up my panties, and I hated it. "This is so uncomfortable."
Carla giggled. "Yeah, they are. We'll work you up to tampons, though."
I didn't know what that was either. How did they know about all of this? I knew that the girls didn't grow up in the house like I did, but they all seemed so smart.
Carla walked with me down to the kitchen using the back stairwell. She wrapped her arm across my shoulders and hugged me against her body. "Our girl is growing up, Erin."
Erin's brown eyes widened. "You got your period?"
"She did," Carla answered. "I took care of it for now. You'll just need to explain why and how often and how it hurts sometimes and"—she shrugged—"whatever else you can think of."
"This isn't good," Erin stated.
"It was bound—"
Erin cut Carla off. "Madam told me that as soon as she was a woman, she was going to be put to work."
"What?" Carla questioned. "You don't mean—"
Erin shook her head of brunette hair. "I don't think she means at this age, but yeah, eventually."
"So, there's nothing to worry about." Carla squeezed me once more before letting me go and walking to the fridge. Chef Martin was at the stove, making Madam's breakfast.
"Unless she has other plans for her?"
"Like what?" Carla grabbed the orange juice. I felt like a fly on the wall, watching the conversation about me happen in front of my eyes.
Erin shrugged. "I don't know."
"We don't have to tell her anything. She won't find out," Carla suggested.
"She'll find out." Erin looked up at one of the cameras in the kitchen. Every room had cameras, including my bedroom. I didn't know why.
"I think it will be fine." Carla poured each of us a glass of the juice. "She's too young to do what we do. What else is there?"
"I don't know," Erin whispered, "but I'm afraid to find out."
If Erin was afraid, then so was I.
We didn't tell Madam that I got my period.
I tried to hide it for the next several days. Erin told me everything about what to expect monthly and how I was able to have a baby now. I didn't want a baby. I knew nothing about babies.
"Erin," I called as she sat at the small kitchen table the girls and I used. We were taking a lunch break from my studies.
"Yeah, honey?" She coughed a little as if she was coming down with a cold.
"What is New York City like?" I sat in the chair next to her.