My name is Elizabeth. I am 23 years old. I need  to tell you about a girl named Arabella. She  

moved into our apartment building. She was around  my age, kind and confident. My mother loved her.  

My mother said to me, "Look at Arabella. She's  so responsible, so organized. You should learn  

something from her. try to be more like her.  I rolled my eyes at first, but after a while,  

it began to bother me. I didn't dislike Arabella.  I didn't even know her that well, but hearing her  

name all the time made me angry. It had been 3  months since Arabella moved in. One afternoon,  

my mother said Arabella's boyfriend had proposed.  Arabella is getting married next month. I was  

shocked. I looked at my mother. I said, "What  already? How old is she?" My mother said she  

was 24. I couldn't believe it. Arabella was so  young. 2 weeks later, Arabella got married. She  

wore a beautiful white dress. She looked happy.  I didn't talk to Arabella much. Still, I didn't  

wish her any harm. I hoped things would go well  for her. 2 days later, everything changed. I came  

home from work that evening. I opened the door to  our apartment and there she was. Arabella sitting  

on our couch in our living room. I froze. Her face  was pale. Her eyes were red and swollen. She had  

been crying. My mother was sitting beside her.  She was crying, too. Next to them was Arabella's  

mother. She was holding my mother's hand. People  from the building began to gather. The word had  

spread quickly. The bride had come back on the  third day of her marriage. My mother looked up  

and saw me. Her eyes were full of tears. She  said, "Go to your room." I nodded. I didn't ask  

any questions. I just turned and walked down the  hall. Everyone wanted to know what had happened.  

Everyone had advice. They tried to talk to  Arabella. They told her what she should have done,  

what she shouldn't have done, what was right, what  was wrong. But no one told me anything. Maybe they  

thought I was too young. Maybe they thought I  wouldn't understand. So I stayed quiet. Then  

one evening, I heard my parents talking. I was in  my room. The door was slightly open. My mother was  

talking to my father. She said, "Tomorrow you need  to go to Arabella's in-laws. Talk to them. Ask  

them to take her back. Mistakes happen. There has  to be some kind of solution. Marriages don't just  

end like this." My father agreed. He said he would  go. The next morning, they left. I stayed home.  

Arabella was upstairs with her brother. I didn't  have the courage to go up there. I didn't have the  

courage to ask her what had happened. So, I stayed  downstairs waiting, praying that they would come  

back with good news. They returned in the evening.  I was sitting on the couch when the door opened.

I looked up. Arabella's mother was holding  a white bed sheet in her hands. Her face  

was full of anger. She yelled at Arabella. She  screamed at her. And then she said something I  

will never forget. She said, "It would have been  better if girls like Arabella were never born. I  

should never have had a daughter. It would have  been better if you had died with your father.  

My heart stopped. I couldn't believe what I  was hearing. My mother looked at me and said,  

"Take Arabella upstairs." I nodded. I stood up and  walked over to Arabella. I gently took her by the  

arm and led her toward the stairs. I still didn't  know what had caused all of this. No one had told  

me. Arabella's mother didn't stop at words. She  raised her hand. She slapped Arabella right across  

the face. Arabella didn't fight back. She didn't  defend herself. She just stood there crying. My  

mother quickly stepped between them. She told  me to take Arabella back downstairs. She said  

she would handle Arabella's mother. So, I  brought Arabella down. I gave her a glass  

of water. I asked if she was all right. Arabella  didn't answer. She just stared at the floor. Her  

hands were shaking. After a few minutes, I asked  her again. I asked if she could tell me what had  

happened. Arabella looked at me. She said, "I  didn't bleed. I didn't understand." I said,  

"What?" I had no idea what she meant. Arabella  was about to explain, but before she could,  

my mother came. She walked over to us.  She told Arabella to go back to her house.  

I felt angry because I still didn't understand.  After 6 months, Arabella got divorced. That's  

it. The story is over. Well, almost. I forgot to  mention something important. Arabella's in-laws  

threw her out for one reason. She was not a  virgin. That was it. That was the crime. That  

was the shame. losing virginity before marriage.  How dare she? How shameless. People said, "Well,  

her father died when she was young." This is  what happens. This is what you get when you  

send girls to college. His is what you get when  you give them freedom. Even here in America,  

there are still countless ways people judge  whether you are pure or not. In some areas,  

the white bed sheet test still exists. If you  don't bleed on your wedding night, you fail.  

You don't get your approval. You don't get your  validation. You are labeled. You are shamed. you  

are sent away. But the question was never whether  Arabella was a virgin or not. The real question  

was whether she was pure. And who gets to decide  that? Society. Always society. You know, our  

whole lives we try to be good. Good daughter, good  sister, good wife, good friend, good lover. But we  

forget that relationships come and go. People come  and go. But first, we have to be good humans. We  

tried so hard to make everyone happy, but no one  was satisfied. Not our families, not our partners,  

not our lovers, not society. Your reputation can  be destroyed in a single moment. One mistake and  

everything you built is gone. Arabella was never  my enemy. She was my friend. She taught me that  

someone's opinion can never define your character.  Only you can do that. I felt proud of her. She  

fought for herself. There are many medical reasons  why women don't bleed on their first night. And  

none of them have anything to do with who a  woman really is. So before you judge, maybe take  

a moment and learn the truth. If you liked this  story, please like, comment, share, and subscribe.