In the corner of the cream coloured ensuite, sitting curled up and afraid on the cold marble… Caity, a girl whom had only just turned 15, was crying rhythmically.  She rocked slowly from side to side, contemplating…a knitting needle in her hand, and three positive pregnancy tests on the floor.  From her waist down, she was naked.  Swaying the needle in front of her paled face, five devastating words continued to echo in her mind, “What choice do I have?” Mesmerised by the movement, her mind brought her back, recalled memories… her new boyfriend, he’s younger than her, 14, and still obsessed with Pokemon, but despite this he was still twice her size, with a cheeky grin to match. His brownish curls lapped serenely across his face. She found herself back at school, one month earlier, and talking to Billy for the first time…

“So do you want to?” asked Billy

“Do I want to what”, Caitys frustration with the boy evident, she had only just arrived at this new school the week before.

“Do you want to go out with me sometime, be my girlfriend”, he mumbled the last three words, blood rising to his already rosy cheeks, contrasting even more his aquamarine shaded eyes. He shuffled on his feet, Caity could see how much nerve he had had to pull together simply to just walk over here.

“Why do you want to go out with me? You don’t even know me! I could be the biggest bitch in the world for all you know”

As fast as it had arrived, Billy’s face drained of all colour. He loosened his collar.

“Because… You’re the prettiest girl I have ever seen; you can’t be as bad as all that, no way. I know I’m probably not in your league or whatever, but maybe if you give me a chance, we can get to know each other a bit and I can find out the rest there is to know about you later.”

He made a good argument, she thought, even if he was just making it all up. She knew she wasn’t pretty, or even remotely attractive in any way. She hated herself, but thought, hey, if this kid is so intent on fucking her around, just like all the others, then why not let him? Her life would screw up eventually anyhow, always has.

…She gasped, and became aware that she was still in her bathroom. A small whimper escaped her parted lips as she realised her current reality was in fact a real occurrence. She had stopped crying now, most likely dehydrated, and once again she lost herself in the methodical movement of the needle. It was their first, real date…

“Don’t be afraid, I’ll look after you”, he took her hand and tugged at her gently, guiding her towards the intimidating looking Ferris wheel.  She hadn’t ridden one since her father took her there as a small girl, before he went to prison for something she never understood, and before her mother remarried, and divorced, and remarried. She shuddered at the thought, and her skin crept. When they seated and were in the air, Billy casually put his arm around Caity to ease her shaking, but what he then realised was that she wasn’t shaking, she was crying.

“What’s wrong!?” he demanded, both frantic and worried; his concern for her sounding incorrectly harsh. The ride stopped. He directed her towards a secluded garden on the outskirts of where the fair grounds were set up. They sat down and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her, refusing to let go. Eventually she found she was holding his as well. She looked up, tears staining her perfect crystalloid eyes, her long golden hair falling lusciously about her shoulders and down her back in beautiful, generous ringlets. He held her tighter, and she felt better.

“Caity, I love you”. Nobody had ever said that to her before and, because she felt it true, she found herself returning his words… “I love you too”.

The ping of the dreaded needle hitting the marble floor brought her back to coherency. Somewhere, lost in her dream, it must have slipped from her hand without her realising. She got up and lay in the empty bath tub, her legs propped up against the end. Razor in hand she slowly cut into the back of her upper thigh, and smiled at the steady “drip, drip” of her precious blood. At her hips the small trickle began to heap and pool at the slight dip in the bath tub. She had never done this type of thing before, but was enjoying the dizziness that was overcoming her. She hadn’t cut deep enough to actually do her any serious harm, but just deep enough to scar, as a reminder in case she was ever stupid enough to trust again... She was once again pulled away, this time as a result of the hypnotic, continual dripping of her thigh. It was two weeks earlier, and they were at a party…

Caity looked over at him sniggering with his friends… he was so perfect… He walked over to her, “You’re so hot babes…”, he said. She could smell the beer upon his breath and immediately regretted allowing him to talk her into coming to this stupid senior’s party. He cupped her chin and pulled her head up to face his. “You’re so beautiful!”, he said and Caity, having not noticed that his eyes were directly on her generously exposed cleavage when he said this, was taken aback. Again, something she had not heard before. Her whole life she had been convinced that she was nothing… ugly, useless, filth, disgusting… then this boy comes into her life and tells her how wonderful she is, and she couldn’t help but let her guard down… only for a moment… that’s all it took. Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, it was over. As if she could see herself from a birds eye perspective, she watched her and her boyfriend drinking, she watched herself being lead into a secluded room, she heard his words “aww, come on, I thought you loved me”, from some far off place, and then she heard her own words, from the lips of a stranger, “I do, I do love you, I do!”. And then, she watched in horror as everything else took place, and she saw herself lying on the bed, on the top of the covers. Bleeding, crying, her skirt unzipped and pulled up about her waist, and her drunken 14 year old boyfriend, so easily manipulated by peer pressure, passed out beside her.

The bleeding on her thigh had stopped, but luckily the dizziness, a result of dehydration and blood loss, had remained. She would need it if she were to face her mother. She gathered herself, and tip toed out of the bathroom back into her bedroom. She dressed and went down stairs. Slapping her hard across the face with the back of her hand, her mother shouted at her, disowned her, and told her to get the hell out of her life. After the initial shock had worn off and she had stopped crying, her mother realised that, though she didn’t agree, she had to support her daughter, and help her, she couldn’t do this alone. Unfortunately by this time Caity had already packed and left, and by the time her mother had even thought to call the police, Caity was already at Billy’s doorstep, pleading him to help her… she could hear Pokemon playing in the background from inside the house.

“Please Caity, you’ve got to go right now, if my parents find you they’ll kill me!”
Caitys eyes were red and sore. “But I have nowhere to go! This is your problem to… and you said you loved me”. Someone inside coughed, and Billy jumped. He stepped outside, closing the door behind him, beginning to shout in a hoarse whisper, “Look! It’s not my fault your to much of a slut to control yourself! And I never loved you, I only said that to make you feel better and I sure as hell…” someone coughed again and Billy immediately spun around. By the time he turned back, Caity was gone. Both relief and guilt overtook him, and he fell to his knees balling.

A pain of total emptiness ripped and tore at the girl as she bolted across the discrete bridge covering the river, her tears hardly noticeable in the rain. When she reached the centre she dropped to the ground, writhing and pulling at her hair. No matter how hard she tried, what she did, the high pitched screeching in her ears would not desist. She almost wished she was back on the floor in her bathroom, free to escape into the depths of her mind. No 15 year old should be forced to have to make such a decision, especially not alone. Caity curled up into a small ball, clearing her mind, dreaming a little, and sucking her thumb.

On January 3rd, 1990, a small, white body was recovered by the local towns’ children enjoying their usual morning walk around the river bank. The body has since then been identified as Miss Caitlyn Louise Peterson, a young 15 year old whom has been missing for the past two and a half weeks. Though it is evident that the poor girl drowned, it is an ongoing investigation as to whether this was an intentional or accidental act. It is most likely this mystery will never be fully resolved.

Perched in the exact centre of the bridge, a small girl decided that she will go home, after having made the decision that she would have the child she carried, and then give it away to a family who will love her, and look after her, and make her happy… yes, she knew it was a her. As she stood, she lost her footing on the drenched wood of the bridge… the girl, and her child, fell to their watery graves, swept away in the current… they hold one another in the purest of heavens, forever watching the harshness of the world below them.