Rain poured down, but she couldn't go home; not yet. She just sat there, on the park bench, staring down at her hands. What was she going to do? This wasn't supposed to happen. Anger suddenly built up in her and she screamed out loud; there was no one around to hear. She felt like her emotions were waging a war inside her: shock, anger, but above all there was fear, and the sense of hopelessness that went with it.

She felt her mobile vibrate in her pocket, took it out and saw that it was her mother. Her mother. What would she say? She would look at her, disappointment in her eyes, and try and look on the bright side. That was what her mother did; talk positively. She wouldn't be thinking positively though. She'd be wondering where she went wrong, and what happened to get her daughter in this situation. What had happened was obvious.

It was that disappointment that she didn't think she could face; that silent reproach; that withdrawal away from her. She'd always been close to her mother, but it wouldn't be the same. It couldn't be the same.

Her mother would recover though, and with her optimism she would think, and plan, and set things into motion. It was her father she was most scared of. Always a daddy's girl, she knew this would break him. But he wouldn't give a silent reproach. Silence wasn't the way her father worked. His disapproval would be thoroughly and loudly heard. Some might think he wasn't hurt, that it was all anger, but she knew differently. It was just the way he showed his emotions.

He would find it hard to forgive her - if he ever could. To him, it would always be her fault. She guessed that in a lot of ways, it was. But she hadn't meant for it to happen. Truly. Honestly. She didn't want it, didn't know what to do with it, but it was there. She would have to accept that. As well as the fact that it would stay there; if she made one decision about this it would be that.

Again, thinking of her parents, she knew her father would not want this. There was her school life to think of, her future. But an education can be learnt at whatever point in life, right? And there were ways to get around it. Her mother would accept, input into the "equation", and reassess her plan.

Giving into temptation she let her head rest in her hands, and began to cry. It was all too much. She wanted was to be back at the age of 5, curled up on a Saturday night in her pyjamas whilst her father read her a bedtime story of princesses and fairies. But life wasn't a fairy tale. There wasn't always a happy ending, even if there was a prince.

She'd have to tell him; at some point. It was like taking off a plaster: do you go for the quick, rip-it-off-and-get-it-over-and-done-with route? Or do you take your time, slowly peeling away until it was all done? What would his reaction be? She loved him, but she couldn't expect him to make a commitment, to put his life on hold for her. She would accept whatever decision he made. She hoped. She knew it would crush her if he just turned away from her without a look back. His support, if it was there, would help her; she knew it. She would go for the quick, over-and-done-with option. Then all she could do was hold her breath whilst she waited for the outcome.

The rain had seeped through her clothes - her mother always warned her that she would get cold, and she never paid attention. She had goose bumps on her arm, but she didn't feel them. She felt numb. As her phone vibrated in her pocket once again, she knew she would have to go home. She couldn't put it off any longer. She lifted herself from the bench, feeling like she weighed triple what she did, and began the walk home. Her feet shuffled along the ground, her head was low, and her arms hung listlessly at her sides. When she saw her house she began to feel a sense of despair, unable to predict exactly how her life would go from that point, but she pushed herself forward, telling herself that whatever happened, she would be ok. It would all be ok.

Taking a breath, she pushed open her back door and walked into her kitchen. Her mother, who had been standing by the stove making dinner, looked up and immediately rushed towards her, shocked to see her daughter standing in the doorway, water dripping off her and ghostly white.

Overwhelmed by guilt at thinking she had let her parents down, she fell into her mother's arms, grateful for the comfort. She did not stay there long, for she knew it would only hurt more. Standing up straight, and trying to hold her head high, she looked into her mother's face and in a voice as small as the one she had used when she was five said: "Mum, I'm pregnant."

Lauren
Age 15

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