I learned one day that my neighbor, whom I used to play with, was getting married.
She was almost 16 years old.
How could that be?
I couldn’t understand what was going on.
“I’ve got something that my husband will take from me and throw away tomorrow morning,” she said.
Mama said that it wouldn’t hurt, but that there would be blood.
It’s a normal thing.”
That’s when I knew that marriage meant there’d be blood.