A Growing Pinch
The gun approaches you at top speeds. You think of growing up, of experiencing changes in your body.
The cold metal reaches your earlobe. When will you get your first boyfriend? Who will be in your high school friend group? You think about homecomings, winter balls, and proms.
A slight sensation of pressure begins. You feel a flood of embarrassment, thinking about all of the times you’ve worn dresses over jeans, how your mom has to drive you everywhere, and how you aren’t even allowed to have a cellphone.
The pressure increases a little, like a growing pinch.
But it is six months until you can wear those big hoops – the ones that will touch your shoulders and make you look like Selena Gomez. Then you will put all of this childish stuff in the past.
The pain – steady and sharp. Applying to college is only years away. You will definitely need to work hard in high school, getting perfect grades and test scores. You will have to go to a top school…
The metal rod pushes the tender flesh, testing its elasticity. It is reaching its brink…
Someday soon, you will be walking down the aisle, in a bedazzled mermaid gown. You will wear a tiara with a veil as you make strides toward your prince-charming.
Click. The post pierces the skin.
Alive. You wonder what it will be like now. Now that you’ve taken the first step toward adulthood. You feel a swell of something bitter, in the pit of your stomach.
The signals of pain reach your brain.
Ow! Is this what being an adult was about? Getting hurt. Not getting into the school you wanted to, having kids who misbehave and disrespect you, getting a divorce? Maybe all of the glitz and glam you’d hoped for was far from the painful reality.
The sharp pain is replaced by a dull itch.
You picture child you, little you. You picture the girl who likes to wear dresses over pants. And in your mind, you hold her tight.