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The rings on her fingers

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As I open the bathroom door a wave of warm steam hit me in the face. I just got home from a day full of best friends fighting, a break-up with my first boyfriend, and a math test that I was sure I flunked and my mom had decided to have a shower. When she knew I would come home wanting to tell her all the new stories, which I did everyday! Me and my mom lived on town gossip and since I was her only reliable source we would sit down in the living room and I tell her about my day at school and how I thought Mrs. Williams, my teacher, was preganet.


I entered the bathroom to find my mom already dressed and brushing her hair. I don't know what happened but just seeing my mom there made me to begin to cry. Big, shameful tears rolled down my already flushed cheeks and I uttered a few words.

" I hate my life! Why does being a teenager have to be so difficult?"
*Sniff*
" Mom! My two best friends are fighting, Michael broke up with me because I'm ugly, and I'm going to fail math this year!"
*Sniff*


My mom looked horrified as I continued to cry. There wasn't anything she hated more than tears. Then she grabbed me by the hand and walked me to her bedroom. We climbed up on the bed and we both layed there, and she waited quietly while I cried.


When I was done she grabbed my hands and asked me, "Did Michael SAY you were ugly?" I shook my head a weak no.

"He's just a guy. Guy's are jerks. They have been since prehistoric times and they will be till the world ends. He will eventually come to his senses and realize that breaking up with you was the worst decision he ever made. Now, I have to finish drying my hair or it will curl wrong and when I'm done we'll sit down in the living room and you can tell me how Mrs. Williams is doing."

With that said, she stood up to leave but I stopped her with a peculiar question. One that I always wanted to ask but never did. " Mom, why do you wear a ring on each of your fingers?"

She smiled and answered with a laugh, "Each ring symbolizes the 8 years I went through as a teenager. My mom started it with me when I turned thirteen. I got a new one on my birthday, every year until I turned twenty."


There was a pause and then my mom said in a quiet voice, "Maybe we should get you your own ring collection. You are thriteen now."


Then my mom saw her hair in the mirror, which had started to curl the wrong way, and left the bedroom. I was left there with my own thoughts. I layed there until I heard my mom's hair dryer start then I stood up and whipped the tears off my face.


I was going to accept my teenage years with a heart full of love and maybe a few extra rings.

* The next week I left school with two best friends who were still fighting, a boyfriend who was dating someone else already, and a math test which was going to get put through the shredder once I got home... but I had a brand new ring on my finger with 7 more to come.*



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