PIECES

FIRST KISS

I sat and listened as everyone told their first kiss stories. The smiles upon their faces, the joy burning bright in their eyes. It seemed a first kiss represented so much to all theses teenage girls except me. I was broken, and I knew why.
I didn't want to be at this sleepover in the first place, but Dr. Su adviced it. I needed to get more social and be comfortable around my friends. She kept reminding me I could do nothing about the scars that brought me to her office every Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, but I knew deep down it wasn't that easy to let go.
So here I was on a Friday evening, listening to my hormonal friends talk intensely about the first time they pressed their lips against that of a guy. But I was lost in thought. Not because I was dreaming of what my first kiss was like, but because I didn't know which my first kiss was.

Was my first kiss the kiss I chose to have? Or was it by definition, the first time someone else pressed their lips against mine for intimacy? Here I was on a Friday night thinking I was going to feel better by this sleepover, but the reason for my awkward social behaviour just came up. I felt vulnerable.
My first kiss? Maybe I should tell them of the time I made out with Kofi when he came over to help me study. It was a normal stare in the eye, hand on cheek, gentle kiss they'd like to hear about. Or do I tell them my real first kiss? The kiss I never asked for. The kiss I never wanted. A kiss that left my soul bruised and beaten.

My innocence was taken away from me because some guy somewhere decided he wanted the pleasure of it. As I walked home alone on a Saturday evening , I decided to use the shortcuts in order to get home in time for the big game. Yes, I was a teenage who loved soccer. A passion I was soon going to pay for. As I went through one dark alley I felt something wasn't right, my breathing got heavy and my palms got sweaty. I was all alone and noone was in sight. I doubled my pace, trying to get out of this forsaken place. I looked back to see if anyone was following me, only to turn around to bump into a huge tall man. He began to make small talk and refused to let me pass when I insisted I was late and had to hurry home. It all happened so quickly, but what I would never forget is how fast he was able to get me down, pull my skirt up and my underwear down. I struggled, but my tiny feet and hands were no match for this chunk of human flesh. The next thing I felt was so much pain as I felt him inside me. The tears of a thousand souls began to flow down my cheeks. As if thrusting in and out of an innocent teenager wasn't enough, he turned my face towards him with his bulky hand and planted his lips on mine. Forever ruining my first kiss. No matter how hard I fought he always seemed to win. He was done quickly, and left almost as instantly as he appeared.
I lay down on the ground, forever scarred, forever broken. Now do I tell whoever asks of this first kiss? Or am I giving a pass because of my tragedy?

~ny

https://agyeiboakye.wordpress.com/2018/08/10/first-kiss/