Taylor McCauslin
Nick Lakostik
English 1100
September 8, 2015
A Childhood Impact
I am eight years old. I\'m sitting in the back of my mom\'s old white Cadillac. My mother and Aunt Jessie are talking quietly to each other up front. After we pick up Aunt Jessie, we drive to a large brown, brick building. There is a group of people outside waving signs and yelling at all of the girls who come out of this mysterious building. Why are they yelling at them? These girls seem so sad. Sometimes, I\'ll see a guy holding a girl who is crying. I\'m scared.
I look up at my aunt just before she walks into this building. Silent tears stream down the sides of her face. I don\'t understand. If this building makes people sad, why do they go in? My aunt looks at my mom and says, "This is the last time. I can\'t keep doing this." My mother doesn\'t respond until Aunt Jessie is away from our view and inside the building. She looks at me with sad eyes and says, "It\'ll be okay. Aunt Jessie will be back soon."
I want to ask questions. What\'s going on? Why is everyone sad or angry? When can we leave? But I\'m too scared. So I sit quietly and stare out the window at the angry group of people with the giant signs. After what seemed like forever, Aunt Jessie comes out of this awful building and gets back in the car. I can\'t really see her face.
"Are you okay?" Mom asks her.
She doesn\'t respond immediately. Aunt Jessie looks up at my mom and starts violently shaking and sobbing. I am very confused and even more terrified. My mom hugs her and comforts her while whispering, "It\'ll be okay," over and over again.
I remain quiet the rest of the way to Aunt Jessie\'s house and then back to ours. It wasn\'t until three years later I understood what happened on this day. My aunt had an abortion.

Falling to Pieces
It\'s a couple of weeks after my fifteenth birthday. Today is a good day. I have no homework, I aced a huge test, and I didn\'t have to work. I am getting ready for bed the same way I do every night. I\'m getting ready to take a shower when my new cell phone starts blaring from my pink dresser to the right of my turtle tank. I look at the screen and briefly ponder whether or not to answer. It\'s my best friend Stacey\'s mother. I assume she\'s calling to ask where she is again. Stacey has a habit of sneaking out and getting caught. But I answer it. Little do I know that this phone call will change my life forever.
I drop the phone and run to where Stacey and I used to go to hide from the world. My mother calls after me as I head outside but I barely hear her. I can only focus on those few words running through my head over and over again. I feel nothing, but I know the pain is coming. As the tears finally begin to fall, I think about all of those times Stacey and I shared together.
We\'ve helped each other through so many hard times. But I remember one time in particular when Stacey had met a boy named Ethan. She thought she was in love after only three weeks of dating. I tried convincing her that she sounded crazy to no avail. After about four months of non-stop talk of Ethan, Stacey unexpectedly came over to my house. She was in tears. I grabbed her and held her until she settled down.
"What happened?" I asked.
She reached into her bag and avoided my eyes as she handed me a thin object wrapped in tissue paper. As I took it from her hand, I gently unveiled this mysterious object that seemed to be the source of so much grief. My stomach immediately sunk as the bright blue plus sign on the small screen glared at me.
I held her for the rest of the night through several bouts of tears. Stacey had decided on a plan. I was wholeheartedly against it. I knew