F.G.M.
By cait
she plays and skips and sings and claps. She still laughs. carefree, still complete. Her mother watches her, waiting for the changes to begin. watches as the frst signals of womanhood begin to shine. a slight pointiness to a once smooth and androgonous chest. Menses. It's time. There's a man in the village who takes care of all the girls. he took care of the mother, years ago. at her time. His blades were his fathers, and his fathers father before him. He is Proud to be part of such a worthy Tradition. He protects the girls from Temptation. Removes the possibility. Completely. They should be grateful. she screams and writhes and kicks and cries. Her mother holds her down, with help from aunts. He comes at her, puts one hand on her, around her. a quick flick of the wrist and it's done, she's clean again. a few stiches, closing her off, saving her for matrimony. untouchable. Just like all the other girls.this happens. every hour, everyday to hundreds of thousands of girls. Written January 24th, 2002 © on Jan 23 2002 03:16 PM PST 0 • 9
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"she plays and ..."