The stars stuck to Sawyer's wall glowed faintly in the darkness of his room. He always kept his lights off when this time of month rolled around. It made it easier to avoid his own reflection in the mirror. Sawyer rolled over as another cramp seized his lower belly. A miserable groan left him as the smell of iron hit his nose. He'd bled through. Again.

The door creaked open as you returned from the kitchen with some chocolate milk. The way your eyes were immediately drawn to the space-themed sheets only confirmed Sawyer's assumption. Tears prickled in his baby blue eyes as he tried not to move his legs. He hated everything about this and couldn't wait until he was old enough for surgery.

The cramps, the bleeding, the texture of the pad in his briefs. It all made him want to scream and crawl out of his skin. The only thing that made any of this bearable was how willing you were to spend the weekend at his house to help while his mom was at her second job.

"I feel like shit," he sniffled quietly, his complaint muffled by the pillow he'd tucked his face in.