A Life Changing Moment

A Life Changing Moment

 

Drawing in an exaggerated breath I slide down the wall until my body finds the cold white tiles beneath me. Pulling my knees towards my chest I hug them finally letting my breath out loudly sighing and glance over at the small white object that holds my fate. As I feel the weight of the world settle on my shoulders I sink more heavily onto the cold floor.

How could I have let this happen?

A tear trickles down my warm cheek and I swallow hard to hold back anymore that might be waiting to break free.

Not yet! I tell them. Not until I know for sure.

Again I glance over towards it. Many women would stare in anticipation and with excitement, willing their lives to be forever changed. Not me. I look at it with both dread and anxiety knowing the power it holds over the rest of my life and what happens the moment I open the bathroom door and re-enter the outside world. The world where I would face judgement and ridicule, lose my closest friend and the respect of my family.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind I stand and lean on the vanity with both of my hands straddling the sink finding the courage to take a hard look at myself in the large mirror in front of me. Finally I lift my gaze from the shine of the white sink to my own reflection. The disgust I have for myself and the sadness that goes with it almost allows the tears that well in my eyes to cascade down my pink cheeks. Another loud swallow pushes them back.

Bravely I stare into my dark blue eyes tinted with reds and pinks, my long dark hair is tied up into a messy bun some strands have fallen out around my face and I tuck them behind my ears hands shaking. My face is paler than its usual olive complexion but I suppose that is to be expected under the current circumstances. But deeper than that, deeper than my plain, unattractive appearance, is a sixteen year old girl who did something incredibly stupid that has the potential to ruin not only her closest relationships and her reputation, but the rest of her life.

All I wanted was to feel like I was special… normal… attractive. Somebody that boys actually wanted to be with instead of ignore and only date her friends. When he approached me at the party I was sitting on a hay bale by myself staring at the fire that burned eagerly in a rusty drum that had been cut in half and lay on its side in front of me. Giggly from an array of premixed drinks I’d eagerly swallowed down to feel less nervous, I knew that nobody really wanted me to be at the party and that I had only been invited because of my best friend. The idea that maybe if I went on my own someone would see me instead of her had seemed good at the time but once there I realised how unpopular I truly was. He sat down beside me with a wide smile and knowing my best friend, his girlfriend, wasn’t allowed to attend, I enjoyed the flirtation and the way it made me feel. He said the right things; I was so pretty, one of the nicest girls he’d ever met, he didn’t really like Bec anymore, he’d always had a secret crush on me.

It was wrong, I knew it was but still I let him seduce me with dirty tasting cigarettes that left an awful pool of filth in my mouth and even more premixed drinks that made my head light and my stomach churn. We flirted and laughed and for the first time I felt as though someone really thought I was special. He lead me to a nearby park, and although panic set in when he pushed me gently to the wet grass, his affections, kind words and the amount of alcohol I’d consumed made me push the feeling away, ignore it.

He never spoke to me again, and he never broke up with Bec. Instead I lived every day with a terrible guilt and the feeling of being dirty and not good enough. He had taken so much away from me, my close friendship, my self-respect and my virginity.

Now I sit here on the edge of the bathtub awaiting the news. The instructions read it would take “just three minutes,” but it has been the longest three minutes of my life. Looking across the floor once again at the white stick I can’t make out the result, and take a slow, steady breath before I make my way over to it, lifting it from the cool tiles unable to bring myself to look directly at the panel that would determine my future.

You can do this. 
Looking down a weight shifts from my shoulders, there is only one pink line. I’m not pregnant. But the weight only moves to my heart heavier than before. Another tear escapes and rolls down my cheek, I wipe it away hiding the pregnancy test in my pocket and step through the bathroom door back to my reality.

 

- Written by L J Higgins