Trapped

Trapped Part 40

(A/N)IIGHT SO, LITTLE MODIFICATIONS TO ALL STORIES. I KNOW I PUT PROD IN SOME AND EJ IN SOME, BUT FUCK IT. I GET CONFUSED ON WHO IS IN WHICH STORY AND I CAN'T GO BACK TO SEE BECAUSE THE NIGGAS BARELY GOT LINES EITHER WAY. SO, FROM NOW ON, PROD, EJ, AND MIKE ARE IN THE STORY. JUST TO MAKE THINGS EASIER.

As of now, everything in this story happened over a year. Since this book is a year old now, and my favorite season is coming up (Christmas) you know I gotta write about it. So now its past Halloween. And I'm gonna start to be more organized with the dates of this book. I'll go back and edit it once I'm finished.

***WARNING: GOES INTO DETAIL ABOUT PERIODS AT FIRST***

MIDNIGHT

KYRAS POV

I woke up. I felt myself in my own mess. Fuck. I hate the fact I consistently have heavy flow days.

I raised out of bed and Prince moved around a bit. I made my way to the bathroom and grew irritated when the sticker part of the pad you tear off got stuck onto the pad. I threw it away and tried to put the mad on when the wings got stuck onto the pad before I had the chance to place it on my panties first. He should've fucking known I don't like wings. I threw the useless piece of shit away and got a new one. The wings also got stuck on that one. I tore the wings off and began to whine and throw a fit.

Then I noticed the tampons.

I should be loose enough by now.

I grabbed the box and took a tampon out, reading the instructions. I didn't understand it, so I just put the whole thing up there. It shouldn't kill me. It hurt like hell, but it shouldn't hurt me. I just took the thing out and dropped it into the toilet.

You can't fucking flush plastic.

I grabbed a hanger hanging on the door and threw it in the trash, along with the hanger. I got another pad, opened it, held out the wings, and put it on properly. It didn't feel right. It felt uncomfortable. I flushed the toilet and washed my hands, trying to brush the feeling off. It started to irritate me and I just sat on the tub and whined.

PRINCE'S POV

I heard constant ripping of paper and then whining. I woke up to find Kyra not by my side. I heard the toilet flush and the sink run. She didn't come out. Shit, she probably threw another one of her emotional fits.

I walked into the bathroom and found her laid out on the side of the tub, whining.

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked, picking her up and taking her to the bed.

"Leave me alone!" She got out of my grip and got back under her covers. Dammit.

Emotional frustration fit means comfort her, but don't say shit. Emotional breakdown means talk to her about it. Shit. I keep getting the two mixed up.