Waiting Room

January 19, 2009
By Emily Schmitz, Thiensville, WI

I could feel my legs shaking as I crouched down in the chair. The only thing standing between me, and the fate of my future, was a dark brown door that was occasionally opened and slammed shut. I felt like I was going to throw up. It’s all I could think about since that night. What if? What if I am pregnant? What are people going to think? I can barely support myself, better yet a baby.
What was I thinking? The truth is I wasn’t. I didn’t want to hear what the nurse had to say; it was going to be no surprise to me. The only surprise that is left is for my mother, my friends, my teachers, and my classmates. I’ll never be thought of as the same.
Who would have thought one mistake could affect me every moment for the rest of my life. My dream when I was little was to have three kids; two boys, Charley and Sam, and one girl, Elizabeth. But I would have never thought I would be in a waiting room, waiting to find out if my sixteen-year-old body has a baby inside of it.
I felt alone, sitting by myself, with the four walls of the waiting room staring back at me. I see a young girl walk in with one hand on her throat and the other inside her mother’s hand. How I wish I was young like her again and my biggest worry was the sore throat I had woke up with that morning. How I wish I could be her age again, erase that night, and begin my life again. The little girl sits right next to me and her teeth match the color of her white polo as she smiles at me.
“Annie, Annie Jansen?” She said my name in such a way, that I was sure my life was about to change.

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