Too young

1. Knockin on heavens door

Losing my virginity wasn't the solution to my problems, if anything it just made them worse. At 13 I was too young to make such a big decision, my body wasn't even fully developed, never mind my brain. Like a typical teenager I thought I knew better, my thought was it's my life no one knows what I need more than I do. Ultimately I was wrong, at 13 I knew nothing about life or even about myself. I blame the romantic comedies for my misguided thoughts on virginity, I was naïve.

When a popular soccer player showed interest in me I felt special. I had no experience with men and had never had such a good looking boy pay attention to me. In all honesty I had never had anyone, especially at school pay attention to me. His name was Nicky and he was the typical boy next door, his hair was blonde and was perfectly teased into small spikes on his head, he had blue eyes so blue they reminded me of mystic lagoons. Nicky was tall and muscular, everyone respected him and therefore respected me when I was in his presence. I finally felt like I belonged, the feeling didn't last long.

When Nicky had initially shown interest in me I had thought it was a joke, that maybe someone had put him up to it as a joke, but for weeks he pursued me until I finally gave in. We spent time together around school but it was very casual. Outside of school he would hold my hand and shower me with affection and compliments. In all honesty it didn't take a great deal of effort for him to get into my panties, for the first time in my life I felt wanted. I felt like someone other than my mother thought I was special.

I met Nicky on the eve of my 14th birthday at the school gym, Nicky had been given permission to practise out of school hours on the condition he did not allow anyone else to join him. Nicky wasn't good at following rules!

I thought what Nicky and I had was love so I didn't care that my first time was going to be on a wrestling mat in an old musty gym. I thought about how it would make a romantic story that we could tell our grandchildren after 40 years of marriage. In my mind we would be the high school sweethearts who would get married and enjoy their lives together. Told you I was naïve.

I hadn't expected my first time to be enjoyable but I had expected it to be more than Nicky greedily using my body without any thought to my needs or pleasure. Minutes felt like hours as he clumsily moved above me, I did my best to keep back the tears, I failed but Nicky didn't seem to notice. I knew I had made a mistake and I wanted to ask him to stop but I couldn't, still in my mind I thought I needed to do this for Nicky. In my mind he was my boyfriend and this was my duty. I never imagined that after sleeping with him I wouldn't get attention from him again. It was as though I had faded away the moment he climbed off me, he didn't even look at me as he got dressed. He simply walked away and called over his shoulder for me to close the door when I left.

I didn't know it then but that was the moment I changed forever, I was no longer naïve and no longer needed a mans validation.

2 years later

"I'm so sorry Emily '' my friend Gina says as she clutches my hand, his voice is wobbly, i don't need to look at her to know that she's crying too. I can only nod, it still hasn't sunk in . To an outsider it would look like I didn't love my mother and that I wasn't heartbroken by her death but that's not the truth. I'm truly broken, I feel like my whole world has ended. My mom, the only person I have ever loved, is dead. I can't imagine living without her, when we've never spent more than a day apart in my whole life . I have no other family, none that I have met anyway. I sit and look at her empty bed, I can't help but to be selfish and see it as a metaphor for my future. Empty!

Only an hour ago my mom had been laid beside me, her dark brown eyes staring at me. Her dark curls strewn across her pillow as she coughed up what was left of her lungs. I held her grey hand as she struggled to take her last breath. I knew this day was coming but I had hoped she would get to live longer, my mom had been seriously ill for the last 9 months. Her health had gone downhill fast, long gone was my vivacious mom who could make the most miserable person smile.

We never had money so my mom had learnt to make the best of what life had to offer. My mom was an eternal optimist, and she refused to believe that a situation could be all bad. When she found out her diagnosis she was positive she would get through it, and when she became so ill that she had to leave work she said it was a good thing because we got to spend more time together.

My mom and I were so close, we did everything together. We would take classes at the YMCA each week. We loved spending time together. Before her health deteriorated my mom had worked in a small supermarket , she worked 50 hour weeks and only just managed to pay our bills. For as long as I could remember money was tight but my mom would never complain.

I would hear the phrase "you don't need money to be happy" multiple times a day. When we started to get seriously behind on our bills I managed to persuade her that I should get a part time job to bring in some money. It was clear that she was hurt that she couldn't provide for us but I was more than happy to look after her for a change. Although she wasn't happy at the situation, I know she was proud that I had inherited her worth ethic.

There's not many jobs out there for a fifteen year old but I did manage to get a few babysitting gigs and a weekend job at a local diner. We were evicted from our house a few months after my mom got ill so we moved into a small 1 bedroom apartment where we were actually able to afford to pay our rent. Mom was embarrassed by our new home but did everything she could to keep it clean and make it homely.

With all my mom was going through I didn't want to complain but inside It felt like my life revolved around school, work and caring for my mom. I wasn't able to be a normal teen but I wouldn't have it any other way. I loved my mom and wanted to make things a little easier for her.

Days passed but things didn't get any easier, they were the most difficult of my life. Our neighbour Agnes had accompanied me to moms funeral. She had even bought me a bunch of white daisies to place on top of the simple coffin. I had hoped the funeral would give me closure but it didn't. Agnes had been a great friend to my mom and me, she had even taken me to my dance classes at the YMCA when my mom had been too frail to attend. The day of the funeral she had given me a letter and a box and explained she had been holding on to them for my mom. I had been intrigued and wanted to open it immediately but she advised me to wait until I was alone.

It was arranged that I would move to Vegas to live with my dad. I hadn't seen him in years but from what I could remember he was a bad guy. I ran before we were reunited, I couldn't bare to be near him especially after how he had treat my mother. My father had left us when I was 8, I didn't remember him but I remembered the fear I felt when he was around. I couldn't even remember his face, I couldn't describe him even if I tried. In my mind he was a monster who made my moms life hell. I had no option but to run so I did. Immediately after the wake I jumped on the first bus and didn't look back. I thought someone would come looking for me but they never did. I just became another of New York's forgotten children.

I didn't have much, maybe enough cash to stay in a run down motel for a few days so I found the cheapest one I could and got myself a room. I was surprised how easy it was, no one questioned why a lone child would need a room, the money in my hand was simply replaced with a key with a large 8 on it. I had lived in squalor before but the room was worse than i could have imagined but i would channel my mother and make it home.

I wiped the room with my face wipes and cringed at the grime that covered them, I didn't dare look at the sheets. I sat on the lone chair with my bag hugged against my chest wondering what options I had. 15 year old school girl, poor with no family and a minimum wage part time job. There was no hope.

I tried to be optimistic like my mom would be, thinking of my mom reminds me that I still have the box and envelope Agnes had given me. I retrieve the letter and my heart stops when I recognise my moms handwriting.

I look up and speak "Mom now would be a good time for you to show me the positive side"