Lost Innocence

I have a boyfriend now. I am 14. He is seven years older than me. I have never had sex before and I am glad because I don’t want anyone to get too close to me. I don’t want anyone to touch my hair, to try to run their fingers through it, as to do so would expose me, expose my bald patches and questions would surely be asked. I definitely don’t want anyone to see me naked, to see that I have no hair between my legs and sore patches from where I have been picking at myself.
Mother has always had men, either husbands or boyfriends. I often hear noises coming from Mothers bedroom when she is in there with a man. The noises come from her and whatever man she happens to have at the time. I believe that these are the sounds and noises of sex. I believe that girls must have sex with men, that sex is the most important part to having a man and that girls are nothing without a man.
Mother has lots of books about sex. I have looked at these books, I have plenty of opportunity to do so as Mothers works at night and there is no one to look after me and my siblings,so we are left on our own all night.
My boyfriend really wants to have sex. I am really scared but think that I must do it as it is what girls are expected to do, so one night I let him. I don’t want to get undressed, so I leave my clothes on and just push my underwear to one side.
We do it. We have sex on the couch. I hate it. It is so painful.
I make all the sort of noises that I have heard Mother make. This pleases my boyfriend. He is very pleased with himself. He thinks that I like it.
But I am just pretending.
I hate it.

The Return Of Number 3

Number 3 has come back to live with us. Mother has asked him to. He is dying. He has cancer. Mother fusses around number 3. I don’t understand her behaviour as she had separated from him and had other boyfriends since he had been gone. But Mother loves a drama. Special nurses come to the house to see to Number 3 and special meals are delivered for him.
My sister and brother avoid Number 3. I help Mother with him, she expects me to. I heat up the special meals over a pan of boiling water, sometimes I give Number 3 rice pudding. He can’t eat very much and he is very thin, weak and frail. He looks like he is dying. As I feed the rice pudding into Number 3’s shrivelled mouth I realise that I am no longer afraid of him.
I think about going to meet my Father in London. Mother tells me that I must never tell Daddy about any trips I may take to see my Father. When I ask her why not, she tells me that it would break his heart to know. I ask her why? Mother replies that it just would ,adding that I should keep my mouth shut.
I know how to keep my mouth shut, to keep a secret.
After all no one knows my secret. That I pull my hair out by the roots.

Telephone Call

At weekends I travel by train to the next town to meet school friends and hang out. When I return I always ring Mother to say that I am back in our city and am walking the short distance home. One weekend during this routine phone call Mother tells me that I must go to my Grandmother’s house before coming home, to meet up with my sister, and wait for a call from my Father. I think that she means Daddy is ringing and I do not understand why he would be ringing me at Grandmothers instead of home. When I ask why, Mother sounds angry and says I must go because grandmother is expecting a call from my father, my real Father!!!
I am beyond excited. This is a moment I have dreamt of for a long time. I can feel my heart beating so fast that I think it may burst in my chest. I reach Grandmothers house and see that my sister is already there waiting for the call, she is very calm. I am not. As I am begging Grandmother to let me talk first the call comes. Instead of answering the telephone immediately Grandmother turns to me and tells me that I must wait in the other room whilst she talks first. I don’t understand why she is making me do this but I am so anxious that the telephone will stop ringing that I do as I am told and leave the room. My sister is allowed to stay with Grandmother and the ringing telephone. I don’t go into the other room where I have been told to wait; instead I listen outside the door with the ringing telephone, Grandmother and my sister. The ringing stops and for a brief moment I think that Grandmother has not answered the call, but then I hear her talking. She is talking to my Father!!! I am so excited but I keep quiet so Grandmother does not hear me listening at the door. I hear her talk about my sister, but not me. I cannot hear her talking about me. I can only hear Grandmother’s end of the conversation but from what I can hear it is obvious that he is asking to talk to my sister as I hear her say that she has something to tell him before he can do that. I hear Grandmother tell him that he has another daughter, me. Again, from Grandmother’s end of the conversation it is obvious that there is a dispute going on about me. It is obvious that he knows nothing about me. He does not even know that I exist. Grandmother continues to argue and I hear her tell him that he can speak to both of us, my sister and me or else he will not be allowed to speak to my sister at all.
I am crushed. I feel tears pricking at my eyes and my cheeks flush with the embarrassment of the shame of my existence as I move away from the door and enter the next room where I had been told to wait.
After what feels like an eternity Grandmother comes to me to tell me that I am to go and speak on the telephone, that it is my turn now. She can see that I have been crying but she does not ask me what is wrong, I think that she must just think that I am over excited. She has no idea that I listened at the door. Inside my stomach feels like it is in knots but I do as I am told and pick the telephone up and talk to the man at the other end, the man who I am told is my Father.
Because of what I heard whilst listening at the door I feel weird and uncomfortable, I'm so embarrassed that he did not know about me that when a visit is set up I don’t go, I am not brave enough, so my sister travels alone. I think that I shall ask my sister all about him, Father, on her return, but she refuses to tell me anything. I have so many doubts because of what I heard at the door. Is he really my Father? I tell myself that surely he must be, why else would I be sent to him?
Other than telling me to go to Grandmother’s in the first instance Mother makes absolutely no comment nor does she ask any questions regarding the phone call. When I try to talk to her about it she just looks at me blankly and either walks away from me or changes the subject.
I decide that I shall be on the next visit.