The Beginning

"One of the most vivid childhood memories I have began with the sound of rain against the window resting just to the right of my small bed. The never came out that day, it just cowered behind the darkening clouds. The layers of rain pelted the soil with gratitude, giving the droplets a purpose and place to land. As the water dribbled down the smudged glass, I stayed in bed. I remember trying not to move or open my eyes so she wouldn't know I was awake. I knew the rain wouldn't stop her from making me go to the fields with the boys, just like every Saturday. I hated going to the fields. But that's where I belonged, or so everyone said. I couldn't behave like a lady and until I could I would go to the fields like a boy. Despite my hatred for the fields, being what they all thought to be a lady wasn't in my nature, nor did I necessarily want it to be. Kneading dough for the evening meal, sweeping floors that attracted the same dirt as the day before; washing, drying, folding laundry in an endless cycle, turning butter for what seemed like hours only so papa could eat it. It all made me want to be a man."
Rose stopped, with a smile crinkling along her thin and practically see-through lips. And then she continued as if the memory were playing on a screen in front of her face.
"Well, not literally per say, but for all the endowments that glided along side a mans' body. Freedom and power, independence and a sense of entitlement which sounded with every step of their feet and sway of their arms. The privilege of being a man constantly plagued my mind with indignation and pure, but honest, loathing. The lack of having sheer greatness dangling between my legs yielded me as lesser a person than those who possessed such an attribute, acquired through rigorous work and aptitude, of course. Being born a boy must have been a battle they won while in the womb, a battle I was unaware of occurring."
Sarcasm lit her eyes quickly and then blew past in an instant, when her self-control rose to hide her face. Letting her breath ease slowly, Rose reached for her small cup of warming water. Small sips soothed her paper tongue and sandy throat. Searching her mind she found the last scene visited and pushed play...