Jennifer’s Dark Past

This is the other part of the story, the one no one asks about or knows about. It’s the part of the story my parents never wanted to hear about. The part of the story that turned me into what I became.

I was one of those girls who developed at a faster rate than the others. By the time I was a freshman my bra size was a 36C. As I stepped through the doors of school that year, I noticed the stares I got from all the guys. Warnings my mother had told me rang in my ears, “all the want is one thing.” “Don’t let them lure you in it’s a trap don’t listen to there phony pick up lines.” That was when my problems started; boys were always asking me out. I know that to any other girl that’s not known as a problem, but for me I knew why they wanted me. After refusing everyone I became the class loner, I knew what they were saying behind my back. But I made it my vow not to care.

When senior year came I was none as the V-Girl. They taunted me and called me other names. That year in Sex ED we had to read Every Young Woman’s Battle. There was this topic on Tabletop Sexuality it listed the four things that helped with our sexual integrity. One leg was emotion, another spiritual, mental, and then physical. The one I knew that so many girls had already broken was the physical one, they were stools know not tables. Senior year was the year I met Zack he meant the whole world to me. We started out as friends then he asked me to homecoming. I of course said yes, from then on we were a couple.

Months passed by and the next thing I knew it was spring break. The whole senior class planned on going to Miami for the two weeks we got off. I was stoked I was ready to prove to people that I wasn’t just a boring girl. Miami was fabulous, although t...

... middle of paper ...

...r to touch his arm it was cold and lifeless beneath my fingers. I ran to call the police, I watched as they carted him away a blanket covering every inch of him. They disposed of the drugs and started to ask me many questions.

I look back on that day and think if I hadn’t asked for help that could have been me. That could have been my drug filled body that they had carted away. It could have been me. But it wasn’t and that was a good thing.

I started to get my life back together, trying to get my life back with the lord. Little by little I was coming back to being the girl I was before high school, to being the girl I had respect for. It took me thirteen years for me to get my life back. It should have never taken that long I should have never needed to reclaim it, in the first place. Now my life starts the right way at 29, I am late but I am going to make it.