My story should have turned out differently. I’ve always believed that all people get what they deserve. But where could a fourteen-year-old girl have been? My life has changed dramatically and dramatically since that moment. It was as if I was dragged under the ice and only in the last seconds there was a chance to come up and breathe.
I was a very ordinary teenager with my own interests, capricious character and dreams for the future. I wanted to become a doctor and devote my life to medicine. I really liked this whole area, I was ready to study day and night, I brought first places at the Olympiads. But I was not destined to become a doctor. At the age of thirteen, I fell in love with a very handsome guy. He was the local ringleader, all the girls at our school knew him. But he paid attention to me! Pashka was so cool.
When we started dating, all the girls were jealous of me. Some even tried to fight him off. And so that he would not be drawn to the side, I agreed to magic. But to be honest, I didn’t want that at all. Pasha did not protect himself, he said that it was expensive and useless. We used the PPA method. But he didn’t help us. The meetings in the car ended with what I was most afraid of. In the morning I woke up from severe nausea. I saw Mom tense up. But I lied that I had eaten not very fresh yogurt in the evening and now I was poisoned.
Mom shrugged and was distracted by the phone. She spent ninety percent of her time there. The father jumped into the kitchen, grabbed a sandwich and went to work. I went to school through a pharmacy. Not a little one, after all, fourteen years was supposed to be tomorrow. I bought a test, did it at school and found out that I was pregnant.
I was unable to restrain myself, sobbing so hard that my knees were shaking. My teacher of Russian language and literature found me in this state. Very young, but very kind. Irina Nikolaevna took me to her class and talked to me. I told her about the pregnancy, but with the promise that she would not tell her mother anything. Irina Nikolaevna advised me to tell my mother and go to the doctor. She explained. That the age of barbarism is over, abortion in the early stages is done with pills and everything comes out monthly. She explained that the girl has the right to dispose of her own body. We talked for a long time, but I still decided to tell my mom.
Two days later, a very unpleasant conversation took place in the kitchen. Mom screamed, called me names, humiliated me and threatened to pull me down the stairs. She claimed that I was shaming her in front of others. She just took me by the collar and dragged me out the door. I found myself in the entrance without keys, phone and basic things. I was wearing a school uniform. I went downstairs and went to Pasha’s house. He wasn’t there, I didn’t even remember the apartment. I tried to call other apartments, but no one let me into the entrance. Pasha didn’t come home either. So I sat under the entrance until the next morning. I understood that at the age of fourteen I was pregnant and on the street. Mom and Dad didn’t try to look for me, they just scored. The next day I tried to hide somewhere, because it was pouring rain, and a day later I returned to Pasha’s apartment.
A tall, thin woman asked me why I’ve been here for days. I explained to her that I was waiting for Pavel Shikov. She said that she was his mother, and Pashka was lying at home with a sore throat. She looked me over and invited me in. I trailed after, afraid of Pasha’s reaction. But everything happened much worse than I expected. I had to tell him about the pregnancy in front of his mother. My chosen one freaked out, wanted to yell, but his throat hoarsely wheezed. Then his mom took me by the arm, barked at her son and took me to the kitchen. She didn’t swear, she didn’t scream. She fed me soup, gave me her warm robe and cut a large piece of cake. Then she asked me what I wanted to do with the baby. I honestly confessed to her that I wasn’t ready to be a mom at such an early age. She nodded, offered to think again. But I explained that I had already decided everything. Then Olga Viktorovna said she could take me to a very good doctor and I agreed. An hour later we were sitting in a queue in the corridor. The abortion was indeed carried out medically, prescribed drugs for recovery. I broke up with Pasha, but I am still grateful to Olga Viktorovna, because she didn’t know me, but she treated me with understanding. I returned home, but my relationship with my parents only got worse.