The cold broke through before dawn. Daylight seeped through the partially drawn curtain, casting pale lines across the floor. Jill opened her eyes with a start, as if her body remembered something, but her mind hadn't caught up yet.
She sat up slowly.
The blanket slipped from her shoulder. Her skin felt slick. Her breath was uneven.
And then she saw it.
She leaned forward, her brows furrowed, as she locked her gaze on the sheet beneath her. Her body became still. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips parted slightly.
There were faint but noticeable streaks spread throughout the blanket, like sloppy brushstrokes. Some were thin and dried at the edges, while others remained glossy, catching the light just enough to reveal their presence. It didn't take long to recognise what it was—Undeniably fresh human intimate—Semen. Her throat tightened.
She followed the pattern with her gaze, noting how it trailed and pooled in one spot before emptying like a reflection of motion. Sperm traces were left in the open, as if they meant nothing.
She leaned out gently and touched one of the wet areas. It yielded beneath her fingertips, thick and slippery, with an undeniable slickness. Her breath caught. She stroked her fingers together and soon jerked away, repulsion spreading across her skin.
The fabric was stiff in some areas and damp in others. The bitter, rotten scent rose, penetrating the room. It wrapped around her, not just the smell, but also the image—the apparent truth of what had happened here was nothing more than an intimate ejaculation.
She swallowed.
"What the...?" she breathed, almost to herself. Her voice barely made it out of her throat.
A knock interrupted the silence. A faint tap on the door—two quick knocks. The sound of a new day beginning.
Jill froze. The world returned all at once.
The door creaked open before she could speak.
Anna's head popped in, her hair tied into a hasty ponytail, her complexion brighter than the cold under Jill's skin.
"Wake up, Jill! You'll be late for school," she said, stepping in.
Jill jumped up and wrapped the blanket around herself in one sweep. Her voice paused momentarily, but she forced a smile onto her face like a mask.
"Good morning, Anna," she responded quickly and too warmly.
Anna's eyes scanned the room. Then the bed. Her brow furrows slightly.
"You woke up late today," she added, her voice becoming softer. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Jill replied, rising too quickly. Her legs quivered a little. "I am fine." "Just going to the bathroom."
She took the bedcover into her arms, moving too hastily to appear nonchalant. Its weight suddenly felt too heavy, as if it understood what it concealed.
Anna took a step closer, her gaze remaining fixed on the bed.
"Do you want me to assist you with the cover? "I can wash it," she said.
"No!" Jill spoke louder than she meant to. Then she added softly, "I mean, no need. "I will wash it myself."
Anna blinked. "You've never washed your clothes before."
Jill faked a laugh, her voice raised and strained. "I'm becoming lazy. It's not a big deal."
Anna tilted her head, still watching her.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure. You can go and make breakfast. I'll handle it."
Anna stood still for a moment longer. Then, with a slow nod, she turned and left the room.
Jill rushed across the room, the bedcover gripped to her chest. The door slammed behind her.
The restroom was dim, and the frosted window did little to bring in the increasing light. She locked the door and turned on the tap.
She spread the sheet over the tiled floor. The stain appeared much bigger in brighter conditions, and she stared at it.
Then, there was a feeling—a gradual and uncomfortable wetness between her legs.
Her breath caught.
She looked down at herself and pulled aside the waistband of her pants.
A trail of something white came down her legs, and her pants were wet from the traces of the semen.
She didn't speak. Her jaw was clenched. Her shoulders pulled tight.
Then she realised the intimacy she had envisioned had become real.
She slid down the pants and stood there naked from the waist down, wondering at what had happened to her.
There was no recall of how it happened.
She leaned against the bathroom sink, her hands holding the edge so firmly that the blood drained from her fingers, making her knuckles appear pale.
The silence of the room pressed down on her.
She was in disbelief and perplexity. Something had crossed a line while she was sleeping.
She attempted to take her mind off it and washed the sheets. Scrubbed it harder than necessary.
The particles from the stain are dispersing into the water, making the water look milky.
Then she cleaned herself. Each motion was a whisper of habit, her eyes distant — a body anchored in place, but her soul wandered somewhere the water couldn't reach.
The sun had risen by the time she exited the bathroom. Anna's voice resonated from the kitchen. "Jill, your food is ready." Her voice was loud.
Jill returned to her room, her face calm and her footsteps light.
But something in her had changed shape.
She folded the sheet and tucked it into the back of her closet. Then, she changed her clothes and brushed her hair.
She sat on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the floor, fingers gently resting in her lap, trying to understand what had just happened to her.
She considered informing Anna, but how do you explain something that doesn't make sense to you?
So, she chose to remain silent.
She put on her shoes, grabbed her bags, and returned to the world.
However, the stain remained—not on the bed, but beneath her daily clothes.
And she knew, somehow, that this was just the beginning.