The Haunted Vagina Read Free Page B

School, I feed her screwdrivers with freshly squeezed orange juice and I drink the Sunflower IPA.
    I try to ask her questions, try to learn more about how the heck a man-sized creature could crawl out of her vagina, where the heck that thing came from, and how long has this all been going on. But she doesn’t know.
    She tells me everything that has to do with her haunted insides. She tells me that ever since she was a little kid she’s heard noises coming from inside her. She thought it was normal. Her parents never noticed. Or pretended not to notice. When she was six years old, for a few months, she had an imaginary friend who used to come out of her vagina to play with her. Another little girl, about her age, with paper white skin and funny slimy horns on her head. She doesn’t remember much from that time, but had always assumed the girl was just her imagination. She thought maybe it was just her young mind giving a form to the voices she heard coming from inside of her. Now she is not so sure.
    When she was a sophomore in high school, she realized that her vagina was different from other girls’ vaginas. Her first love was a girl named Charlee, who was a nerdy freshman who always spoke in a fake French accent. The first time they were naked together, giggling and scared, Stacy’s vagina called out to Charlee and knocked the French accent right out of her voice.
    “That’s fucked up,” the girl said.
    Stacy didn’t understand. She tried to get close to Charlee but she pushed her back.
    “Don’t touch me,” the girl said, and they never spoke to each other ever again.
    She stayed away from girls after that, made friends with guys. But most high school guys always wanted to get into her pants, so she only hung out with the dungeons and dragons skater kids who were nice and somewhat fun, but most importantly they were way too shy to solicit sex from her.
    In college, she ended up getting drunk and sleeping with some wannabe Beat poet English major. She warned him about having a haunted vagina, but that only turned him on. After they screwed, he said that it was the most amazing thing he’d ever done. They dated for a while, and he worshiped her vagina. He told all of his friends about her and would even have them listen to the voices through her pants. All of them thought she was brilliant. She brought magic into their worlds. She was proof that their drunken philosophical discussions of rebellion against reality were somewhat correct. And when she got bored of her boyfriend, she moved on to one of his friends. And when she got bored with him, she would move on to another. All of them treated her like a goddess.
    She stayed in college until she was thirty, becoming something of a legend on campus. Near the end of her college years, she started going to goth parties and charging money to all the little goth boys and girls nearly 8 to 10 years younger than her for the chance to listen to her vagina for a few minutes. There would be lines out the door to see her. Eventually, a rumor went around that it was all fake. She just had some kind of wireless speaker inside of her playing tape-recorded noises. Nobody believed her after that. She was no longer dating any of the college kids, since they were all so young, so there was no one who had gotten intimate enough with her to back up her story. And she didn’t really care to prove it to them. A few guys still paid to listen to her vagina, but once she realized they were just doing it to rub the sides of their heads between her legs, she stopped doing it completely.
    That’s all the information she had for me. It all seemed harmless to her, before. Just something that made her unique and special. She’s never been scared of it. She might have been scared that people would find out about it as a teenager, but she was never scared of what might be lurking inside of her.
    She drinks screwdriver after screwdriver until she can barely walk.

CHAPTER FIVE

    We’re