Fic: Surviving Fifteen
Title: Surviving Fifteen
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Warnings: Non-explicit underage sex, reference to sexual child abuse, drug use, teenage pregnancy, STD, and abortion. [Spoilers: highlight to see]
Word count: 2600
Summary: Erica has always had to deal with situations far beyond what's age appropriate, but she just not sure how she'll survive being fifteen.
A/N: As I've gotten to know Erica better, she's revealed things to me that happened in her childhood. At some point, I will update her CS to incorporate this new knowledge, but in the meantime, she really wanted this story written, so here we go. Comments are welcome :)
Erica sat cross-legged on one of the small, lumpy cots in the boys’ room next to Michael. She watched him pack the pipe with the pot curiously. He’d smoked in front of her before, always offering to let her take a hit, but she’d never tried it, and she was a little nervous about trying it. She watched Michael take a hit, watched how he held it in, and she imagined the smoke moving through his body. He coughed as he blew the smoke out.
“Come on, Ricky, take a hit,” he said, passing the pipe to her. She hesitated only briefly this time, taking the pipe in her small hand, the lighter in her other hand. She stared at the pipe, not quite sure what to do. “Here, come over here,” he said as he tugged her over, spreading his legs so she could nestle between them, her back against his chest.
Michael gently pushed her hair from one side to the other, resting his chin on her shoulder and reaching his hands around to show her how to hold the pipe. He brought it to her lips, took the lighter back to light the hit himself. “There you go. Yeah, just like that. Suck it in. Yeah, hold it in. You’re so fucking sexy, Eri.”
He slid a hand down over her shoulder, squeezed her breast through her shirt. He dropped the lighter, his other hand slipping between her legs, rubbing her through her jeans. Erica coughed, her eyes shooting wide open.
“What... What are you doing?!” she asked after blowing the smoke out.
“Come on, Erica, you can’t keep teasing me like this.” He pressed against her back, and she let out a little squeak as she felt him.
“I... But I’m not even doing anything!” Erica insisted, confused. She kind of liked how he was touching her, but she didn’t know if she wanted this yet. She was only fifteen! But Michael was always nice to her in this miserable place, so she figured she could do a lot worse for her first. And wouldn’t it be better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later?
When he turned her, pushed her back against the cot, she went willingly.
* * *
Erica pulled her clothes back on, not entirely sure how she felt now that she’d done the deed. Michael had been.... well, she didn’t have anything to compare him to, but she thought he’d been rather nice about the whole thing. It had hurt - well, it was more like it stung, but the pain hadn’t lasted long and neither, she thought, had Michael.
She did think that she’d like to do it again. Maybe the next time would be a little more fun than her first had been. She’d always heard that the first time usually wasn’t very pleasant for girls.
“How’re you feeling, baby?” Michael asked, coming up and hugging her from behind.
“I’m okay, I think,” Erica answered softly.
“Hey, hey now,” Michael said, moving so that they were face-to-face. “Next time will be better, I promise.”
“Next time?” she asked, her brows furrowing a bit. She’d thought for sure that since he’d got what he wanted after trying for so long, he’d be done with her. It was sweet that he wanted there to be a next time, right?
His fingers dug into her hips, pulled her to press against him. “Oh yes, want you again already.”
Erica’s eyes widened. “Really, already?”
Michael chuckled. “Yep. You’re sexy, Erica.”
She blushed, ducked her head and rested it against his chest. “‘M not.” She was ordinary, and no one had ever really wanted her before, so it was hard for her to believe that he wanted her now. But he did, and their second time was definitely better than the first.
* * *
Three weeks had gone by, and Erica couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed sex. No, sex was definitely not the problem. The problem was that things were not normal down south. At first she thought it was just her body changing because she was having sex, but now she was worried it was something worse than that.
The bus system in Dallas sucked, but what choice did she have but to take the bus? She needed to get down to the clinic, and she had no other way of getting there. Her stomach hurt so bad, and she wasn’t sleeping well. She hadn’t slept well before, but it was worse now. She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew she needed to find out.
Ditching school was easy. Who was going to notice that the new girl who sits in the back isn’t there? She probably wouldn’t be at that school much longer, anyway. She’d never spent a full year at the same school before.
The clinic was busier than she’d thought it would be. She kept her head down, hiding behind her hair as she walked up to the sign in desk. What if someone recognized her? She had met so many people over the years, though most of them were the kind of people that forgot about you as soon as you were out of sight, so maybe she shouldn’t worry so much.
It was a while before her name was called and a nurse took her back. She explained what was going on in a soft, embarrassed voice, not able to look the nurse in the eye.
“Are you sexually active?” the nurse asked gently.
Erica ducked her head to hide the color on her cheeks. Was it that obvious? “Yes,” she answered in a small squeak. That couldn’t have anything to do with it, though. Right?
“And when was your last period?”
Erica’s eyes widened. “Oh! Umm, I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Was she supposed to keep track? She could usually feel when she was about to start, and she always had a few sanitary items in her bag just in case, so she never felt the need to really keep track of it before.
“One more question. Have you started having annual pap smears yet?”
Erica shook her head. What was a pap smear? It didn’t sound pleasant, that was for sure.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do, then. We’ll get a urine sample, draw some blood for some tests, and give you your first pap smear.”
* * *
Erica put her clothes back on, feeling just a little sick to her stomach. She’d been right, pap smears were definitely not pleasant. They were awkward and intrusive, and she felt just this side of violated. The nurse had explained what it was, what it was for, so she figured it was a necessary evil, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
She sat on the extra chair in the exam room as she waited for the nurse to come back. They sure did give you a lot of time to get back in your clothes.
“Now, I just checked your paperwork, and it looks like we don’t have a phone number we can reach you at for your results?” the nurse asked when she came back into the room.
“No, I don’t have one,” Erica answered simply, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“That’s all right, dear. Just come back in next Friday, we should have all your results by then. And, in the meantime, you shouldn’t engage in any sexual acts at all, but if you must, please do use protection,” the nurse explained.
Erica nodded mutely. She supposed she should have been using protection, but she hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t really understood the importance. And now she was filled with so much fear and worry. What if there was something really wrong with her because she’d been so stupid? What if... She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to keep the moisture in her eyes from falling. There was no use worrying about what ifs. She’d wait until next week, find out what, if anything, was wrong, and go from there.
* * *
It was late by the time Erica made it back to the house she was living at right now. She refused to call any of the placements ‘home’. She didn’t have a home, not really, and she’d never had a home, either. What would it be like, Erica wondered as she walked into the girls’ room, if she did have a home, with a real Mom and Dad, maybe a couple real siblings?
Would they have noticed that she’d skipped school and spent most of the day on dirty buses to get to a free clinic? If she had a real Mom, would she have already taught her the things that the nurse had explained to her. If she had a real Dad, would he be strict in that loving way they often showed on tv? Would he have protected her in ways that her foster ‘dads’ hadn’t?
She curled up on her lumpy cot, still fully clothed, not even bothering to take her shoes off. Her eyes filled with tears, as she couldn’t stop dwelling on what she’d been through in her fifteen years. Most of the time she could pretend, but right now she was so stressed, so worried, that everything was being forced to the surface of her mind.
She could remember the first time a man had touched her. She could remember the stench of whiskey on his breath, the wild look whatever drugs he was on in his eyes. She’d been placed in his and his wife’s care, and he’d betrayed that. She’d been seven years old. Most of the time she was good at pretending, and she knew that as long as she never said it out loud, she’d be able to keep pretending.
Erica was shivering, tears filling her eyes. She didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to feel this aching in her chest, this sickness in her stomach. She was crying when the door opened, but she didn’t turn to see who had come in, she just pretended to be sleeping. But she gasped when she felt the cot shift, felt a warm body lay against her back.
Cold fingers grazed over her neck as her hair was pushed away to expose her skin. His lips were warm when the pressed just below her ear. “Where were you today, Eri?” Michael asked softly, his hand moving to caress her breast through her shirt. “Wanted you all day.”
Erica whimpered softly, lifting a hand to push his away. “Go away, Michael,” Erica said, sniffling despite her best efforts not to.
“Hey now, don’t be like that,” he whispered. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Erica just shook her head, realizing that she didn’t want to be alone, but she didn’t want to talk, either. She turned to him, snuggling against him and pressing her face against his chest. “Just feeling sick,” she mumbled to appease him.
* * *
It was a very long week. Erica managed to keep Michael away by pretending to be sick and on her period, even though she still hadn’t started hers. She was definitely starting to get worried about that. What if...? But, no, she couldn’t even think the thought. She couldn’t be - she was only fifteen!
It was just as easy to ditch school to make it down to the clinic today as it was last week, though Erica felt a million times more anxious this time. Her foot tapped anxiously as she sat in the waiting room. She felt like she was going to cry, but that was ridiculous. She didn’t even know if anything was wrong. She could be just fine, but she had this sinking feeling that things were definitely not fine.
When her name was finally called, Erica stood up, let out a deep breath, and followed the nurse back. When the nurse asked how she was feeling today, she just wanted to scream. She didn’t want small talk, she just wanted to know what was wrong with her! But she swallowed the scream and answered politely that she was just fine.
“All right, well, I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer, so let’s go over your test results,” the nurse said, and there was this sympathetic look in her eyes that made Erica’s stomach drop.
“Okay,” she said softly.
“There were a couple things that came up, and it’s a good thing we caught them so early, as you’ll have more choices. I know this is probably very unexpected, but you are pregnant,” the nurse told her gently. “Since we don’t know the exact date of your last period, we can’t determine how far along you are without an ultrasound. But since you do know it was sometime last month, we think you’re between five and eight weeks.”
Erica’s heart pounded so loud in her chest, she could hear it in her head, and it drowned out the nurses words. Pregnant. Her hands pressed to her stomach, and she felt sick. She couldn’t be pregnant. She’d get thrown out on the streets if she had a baby. And what the hell was she supposed to do with a baby, anyway?
“Erica,” a soft, gentle voice broke through the loud beating in her head. She looked up at the nurse, her eyes wide with fear. “You do have choices.”
“I can’t have a baby,” Erica whispered, moisture filling her eyes. “I can’t. I’ll end up on the streets if I’m pregnant.” And yes, that was definitely panic. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, and her head felt like it was going to explode with the intense emotions.
She made it through the rest of the appointment, though, and by the end of it she felt completely raw emotionally and still terrified. She had the consent forms to have an abortion, and she was pretty sure she’d be able to get her current guardian to sign them without knowing what they were. She’d start the medication to treat the infection Michael had given her after that, and everything would be fine.
It had to be.
* * *
When everything was said and done, Erica couldn’t believe she’d survived it all. The abortion had been surprisingly smooth, and she was pretty sure no one but her and the medical staff actually knew. Her current foster ‘mother’ had been so high when Erica had had her sign the consent form, that she was sure she had no idea what she was signing.
The whole process had been far less painful than she’d anticipated. Oh, it had hurt, but only like a bad period, which she had no trouble dealing with. She was used to bad cramps after two years of them about every month.
And now she was on her way to see her current social worker. She couldn’t stay in that house, didn’t want to be bounced from house to house any more. She just wanted to stay in the group home. She wouldn’t be any trouble, really. She just needed a place to sleep and some food to eat. She wanted get a job, and then she’d be able to buy her own food and clothes, and finish high school.
Maybe she’d be able to convince them that it would work for the best. She hadn’t been in a stable home her entire life, how was bouncing around homes for the next nearly-three years going to help her? She really just didn’t want to end up a statistic, she thought, walking into the social services building.
Erica could make them see, make them understand, right?
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Warnings: Non-explicit underage sex, reference to sexual child abuse, drug use, teenage pregnancy, STD, and abortion. [Spoilers: highlight to see]
Word count: 2600
Summary: Erica has always had to deal with situations far beyond what's age appropriate, but she just not sure how she'll survive being fifteen.
A/N: As I've gotten to know Erica better, she's revealed things to me that happened in her childhood. At some point, I will update her CS to incorporate this new knowledge, but in the meantime, she really wanted this story written, so here we go. Comments are welcome :)
Erica sat cross-legged on one of the small, lumpy cots in the boys’ room next to Michael. She watched him pack the pipe with the pot curiously. He’d smoked in front of her before, always offering to let her take a hit, but she’d never tried it, and she was a little nervous about trying it. She watched Michael take a hit, watched how he held it in, and she imagined the smoke moving through his body. He coughed as he blew the smoke out.
“Come on, Ricky, take a hit,” he said, passing the pipe to her. She hesitated only briefly this time, taking the pipe in her small hand, the lighter in her other hand. She stared at the pipe, not quite sure what to do. “Here, come over here,” he said as he tugged her over, spreading his legs so she could nestle between them, her back against his chest.
Michael gently pushed her hair from one side to the other, resting his chin on her shoulder and reaching his hands around to show her how to hold the pipe. He brought it to her lips, took the lighter back to light the hit himself. “There you go. Yeah, just like that. Suck it in. Yeah, hold it in. You’re so fucking sexy, Eri.”
He slid a hand down over her shoulder, squeezed her breast through her shirt. He dropped the lighter, his other hand slipping between her legs, rubbing her through her jeans. Erica coughed, her eyes shooting wide open.
“What... What are you doing?!” she asked after blowing the smoke out.
“Come on, Erica, you can’t keep teasing me like this.” He pressed against her back, and she let out a little squeak as she felt him.
“I... But I’m not even doing anything!” Erica insisted, confused. She kind of liked how he was touching her, but she didn’t know if she wanted this yet. She was only fifteen! But Michael was always nice to her in this miserable place, so she figured she could do a lot worse for her first. And wouldn’t it be better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later?
When he turned her, pushed her back against the cot, she went willingly.
* * *
Erica pulled her clothes back on, not entirely sure how she felt now that she’d done the deed. Michael had been.... well, she didn’t have anything to compare him to, but she thought he’d been rather nice about the whole thing. It had hurt - well, it was more like it stung, but the pain hadn’t lasted long and neither, she thought, had Michael.
She did think that she’d like to do it again. Maybe the next time would be a little more fun than her first had been. She’d always heard that the first time usually wasn’t very pleasant for girls.
“How’re you feeling, baby?” Michael asked, coming up and hugging her from behind.
“I’m okay, I think,” Erica answered softly.
“Hey, hey now,” Michael said, moving so that they were face-to-face. “Next time will be better, I promise.”
“Next time?” she asked, her brows furrowing a bit. She’d thought for sure that since he’d got what he wanted after trying for so long, he’d be done with her. It was sweet that he wanted there to be a next time, right?
His fingers dug into her hips, pulled her to press against him. “Oh yes, want you again already.”
Erica’s eyes widened. “Really, already?”
Michael chuckled. “Yep. You’re sexy, Erica.”
She blushed, ducked her head and rested it against his chest. “‘M not.” She was ordinary, and no one had ever really wanted her before, so it was hard for her to believe that he wanted her now. But he did, and their second time was definitely better than the first.
* * *
Three weeks had gone by, and Erica couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed sex. No, sex was definitely not the problem. The problem was that things were not normal down south. At first she thought it was just her body changing because she was having sex, but now she was worried it was something worse than that.
The bus system in Dallas sucked, but what choice did she have but to take the bus? She needed to get down to the clinic, and she had no other way of getting there. Her stomach hurt so bad, and she wasn’t sleeping well. She hadn’t slept well before, but it was worse now. She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew she needed to find out.
Ditching school was easy. Who was going to notice that the new girl who sits in the back isn’t there? She probably wouldn’t be at that school much longer, anyway. She’d never spent a full year at the same school before.
The clinic was busier than she’d thought it would be. She kept her head down, hiding behind her hair as she walked up to the sign in desk. What if someone recognized her? She had met so many people over the years, though most of them were the kind of people that forgot about you as soon as you were out of sight, so maybe she shouldn’t worry so much.
It was a while before her name was called and a nurse took her back. She explained what was going on in a soft, embarrassed voice, not able to look the nurse in the eye.
“Are you sexually active?” the nurse asked gently.
Erica ducked her head to hide the color on her cheeks. Was it that obvious? “Yes,” she answered in a small squeak. That couldn’t have anything to do with it, though. Right?
“And when was your last period?”
Erica’s eyes widened. “Oh! Umm, I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Was she supposed to keep track? She could usually feel when she was about to start, and she always had a few sanitary items in her bag just in case, so she never felt the need to really keep track of it before.
“One more question. Have you started having annual pap smears yet?”
Erica shook her head. What was a pap smear? It didn’t sound pleasant, that was for sure.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do, then. We’ll get a urine sample, draw some blood for some tests, and give you your first pap smear.”
* * *
Erica put her clothes back on, feeling just a little sick to her stomach. She’d been right, pap smears were definitely not pleasant. They were awkward and intrusive, and she felt just this side of violated. The nurse had explained what it was, what it was for, so she figured it was a necessary evil, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
She sat on the extra chair in the exam room as she waited for the nurse to come back. They sure did give you a lot of time to get back in your clothes.
“Now, I just checked your paperwork, and it looks like we don’t have a phone number we can reach you at for your results?” the nurse asked when she came back into the room.
“No, I don’t have one,” Erica answered simply, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“That’s all right, dear. Just come back in next Friday, we should have all your results by then. And, in the meantime, you shouldn’t engage in any sexual acts at all, but if you must, please do use protection,” the nurse explained.
Erica nodded mutely. She supposed she should have been using protection, but she hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t really understood the importance. And now she was filled with so much fear and worry. What if there was something really wrong with her because she’d been so stupid? What if... She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to keep the moisture in her eyes from falling. There was no use worrying about what ifs. She’d wait until next week, find out what, if anything, was wrong, and go from there.
* * *
It was late by the time Erica made it back to the house she was living at right now. She refused to call any of the placements ‘home’. She didn’t have a home, not really, and she’d never had a home, either. What would it be like, Erica wondered as she walked into the girls’ room, if she did have a home, with a real Mom and Dad, maybe a couple real siblings?
Would they have noticed that she’d skipped school and spent most of the day on dirty buses to get to a free clinic? If she had a real Mom, would she have already taught her the things that the nurse had explained to her. If she had a real Dad, would he be strict in that loving way they often showed on tv? Would he have protected her in ways that her foster ‘dads’ hadn’t?
She curled up on her lumpy cot, still fully clothed, not even bothering to take her shoes off. Her eyes filled with tears, as she couldn’t stop dwelling on what she’d been through in her fifteen years. Most of the time she could pretend, but right now she was so stressed, so worried, that everything was being forced to the surface of her mind.
She could remember the first time a man had touched her. She could remember the stench of whiskey on his breath, the wild look whatever drugs he was on in his eyes. She’d been placed in his and his wife’s care, and he’d betrayed that. She’d been seven years old. Most of the time she was good at pretending, and she knew that as long as she never said it out loud, she’d be able to keep pretending.
Erica was shivering, tears filling her eyes. She didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to feel this aching in her chest, this sickness in her stomach. She was crying when the door opened, but she didn’t turn to see who had come in, she just pretended to be sleeping. But she gasped when she felt the cot shift, felt a warm body lay against her back.
Cold fingers grazed over her neck as her hair was pushed away to expose her skin. His lips were warm when the pressed just below her ear. “Where were you today, Eri?” Michael asked softly, his hand moving to caress her breast through her shirt. “Wanted you all day.”
Erica whimpered softly, lifting a hand to push his away. “Go away, Michael,” Erica said, sniffling despite her best efforts not to.
“Hey now, don’t be like that,” he whispered. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Erica just shook her head, realizing that she didn’t want to be alone, but she didn’t want to talk, either. She turned to him, snuggling against him and pressing her face against his chest. “Just feeling sick,” she mumbled to appease him.
* * *
It was a very long week. Erica managed to keep Michael away by pretending to be sick and on her period, even though she still hadn’t started hers. She was definitely starting to get worried about that. What if...? But, no, she couldn’t even think the thought. She couldn’t be - she was only fifteen!
It was just as easy to ditch school to make it down to the clinic today as it was last week, though Erica felt a million times more anxious this time. Her foot tapped anxiously as she sat in the waiting room. She felt like she was going to cry, but that was ridiculous. She didn’t even know if anything was wrong. She could be just fine, but she had this sinking feeling that things were definitely not fine.
When her name was finally called, Erica stood up, let out a deep breath, and followed the nurse back. When the nurse asked how she was feeling today, she just wanted to scream. She didn’t want small talk, she just wanted to know what was wrong with her! But she swallowed the scream and answered politely that she was just fine.
“All right, well, I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer, so let’s go over your test results,” the nurse said, and there was this sympathetic look in her eyes that made Erica’s stomach drop.
“Okay,” she said softly.
“There were a couple things that came up, and it’s a good thing we caught them so early, as you’ll have more choices. I know this is probably very unexpected, but you are pregnant,” the nurse told her gently. “Since we don’t know the exact date of your last period, we can’t determine how far along you are without an ultrasound. But since you do know it was sometime last month, we think you’re between five and eight weeks.”
Erica’s heart pounded so loud in her chest, she could hear it in her head, and it drowned out the nurses words. Pregnant. Her hands pressed to her stomach, and she felt sick. She couldn’t be pregnant. She’d get thrown out on the streets if she had a baby. And what the hell was she supposed to do with a baby, anyway?
“Erica,” a soft, gentle voice broke through the loud beating in her head. She looked up at the nurse, her eyes wide with fear. “You do have choices.”
“I can’t have a baby,” Erica whispered, moisture filling her eyes. “I can’t. I’ll end up on the streets if I’m pregnant.” And yes, that was definitely panic. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, and her head felt like it was going to explode with the intense emotions.
She made it through the rest of the appointment, though, and by the end of it she felt completely raw emotionally and still terrified. She had the consent forms to have an abortion, and she was pretty sure she’d be able to get her current guardian to sign them without knowing what they were. She’d start the medication to treat the infection Michael had given her after that, and everything would be fine.
It had to be.
* * *
When everything was said and done, Erica couldn’t believe she’d survived it all. The abortion had been surprisingly smooth, and she was pretty sure no one but her and the medical staff actually knew. Her current foster ‘mother’ had been so high when Erica had had her sign the consent form, that she was sure she had no idea what she was signing.
The whole process had been far less painful than she’d anticipated. Oh, it had hurt, but only like a bad period, which she had no trouble dealing with. She was used to bad cramps after two years of them about every month.
And now she was on her way to see her current social worker. She couldn’t stay in that house, didn’t want to be bounced from house to house any more. She just wanted to stay in the group home. She wouldn’t be any trouble, really. She just needed a place to sleep and some food to eat. She wanted get a job, and then she’d be able to buy her own food and clothes, and finish high school.
Maybe she’d be able to convince them that it would work for the best. She hadn’t been in a stable home her entire life, how was bouncing around homes for the next nearly-three years going to help her? She really just didn’t want to end up a statistic, she thought, walking into the social services building.
Erica could make them see, make them understand, right?