Shock of a Teenager (1)

I remember still that night
As vividly as I do
Of my graduation day.

My graduation day.
I was sweet sixteen.
Innocent.
Carefree.

That day
Was full of flowers
And laughter.

All of us in our
New, pressed, smart black uniforms.
We threw off our mortars
Let the wind toy
With them as it pleased.

And my parents in the crowd
Tears in shining rivulets on their cheeks
Watching their dear little daughter
Finally grow up.

But that night
Robbed me of my flower
Deflowered me
Took my maidenhead.
No laughter,
Only a harsh panting of excitement.
Shrouded in darkness
Because we wore nothing
Nothing at all.

Tears stained my cheeks
My parents’ cheeks
For their dear little daughter
Had grown up too soon
Had entered the world
Of lust and sex and sordid hell
Tasted the forbidden fruit

The terrible truth.

You have Hepatitis B
You have Hepatitis B
You have Hepatitis B

Drumming into my skull.
Again and again.
I screamed.

There is no cure at all
There is no cure at all
There is no cure at all

Drumming into my skull.
Again and again.
I screamed.

I was in a living hell.
I was sixteen!
I was not some drug pusher
Who snorted cocaine on the streets
And shared needles with others.
I was not some freak
Who lay with other girls.
I was a normal
Living
Breathing
Sixteen
Year
Old.

What could be worse?

You’re pregnant.