Thank God the medical staff is through with their fun and games but now one is starting an IV in my left arm.  I wince as the needle goes in, but then, a second later, the pain goes.  I then feel cold, so a nurse covers me with a nice, thick blanket.  I feel better, as the blanket has covered my nakedness: I don't feel as vulnerable.

I am ashamed to look at my mom and dad.  I know they must be very disappointed in me.  I don't blame them.  I had absolutely no business whatsoever in going out looking like a hoochie-mama, and now I am paying the price.  This isn't the first time I've snuck out, just so I could find a boy to have sex with.  I'm not the sweet, innocent, young virgin-girl that they thought I was ...

Now I lie here, shaking-scared.  What if one of the punks who gang-raped me had something like syphillis?  Herpes?  Or worse, AIDS or MRSA??  What would I do then??  What if I ended up pregnant by one of those hoons??

I don't know when I've cried (or vomited) so much.  I am extremely nauseated.  I ask the nurse for something to curb the gross feeling in my stomach: I'm scared that I will throw up all over.  She gives me a shot of something; soon the scene starts swimming before my eyes and I mercifully black out as I go to sleep ...

I wake up later.  I'm now in a hospital room, in the pediatric wing.  I know the doctor will come in and ask me questions.  Gobs of questions.  Personal questions.   I suddenly wish I were four years old again instead of a wordly sixteen.  Four-year-olds don't have the problems I do and they are so innocent, so sweet.  Like my baby sister, Corinthe, who is four and a little doll.

I know Mom and Daddy are angry with me.  How many times have they told me the dangers of teen sex?  Too many, I'm afraid, yet I got tired of being treated like a little girl, so I went out behind their back, to have sex, so I could feel more "grown up".  Well, they have the last laugh on me because I've screwed up big time and I don't know if I can ever live with myself.  I feel tainted, cheap, truly ashamed.

Being dead has got to be better than what I am currently facing ... my life, my life as I knew it, is over!!  O, God, why did I make such a huge  mess out of my life??  Why can't I erase this situation and start all over????

~To be continued.~