She's just come out of the cinema, just seen Robert Schneider trying to be an animal. She's waiting on the street corner, watching the Boy Racers thunder by, stereos thumping, alcohol everywhere. She realises that she knows half of them personally, and that they know her too. She wonders when this happened.
When did this happen? When did she lose her innocence? Was it gradual, or an event? She can't remember.
Was it at one, when she left the safety of her mother's womb, or at two, when standing, she realises she still can't reach the high things she needs. Three, when she got lost, and nobody found her for hours, or four, when she learnt that friends were double-edged swords. Five, when she first heard of sex, or did she lose her innocence at six, when she first learnt of war. At seven she began to watch the horrors on the news, and learnt of what humans do to each other. Was it then? At eight, a family member died, and she truly learnt her mortality for the first time.
Was it her pain and humiliation for the victims of her race? Was it her tears over Wild Swans? Was it Kosovo, Bosnia, East Timor, Ireland or Israel? Was it the unnamed soldier? Was it the long hours learning history only to be sickened by mankind?
She's now a teenager. She's seen bullying, depression, alcohol, drugs, suicide, rape and pregnancy. When did she lose her innocence?
She waits on the street, watching the Boy Racers thunder by, stereos thumping, alcohol everywhere. She realises that she knows half of them personally.
She's lost her innocence, and she can't get it back. But she still has love and hope.
Her friends pick her up, and she drives off, leaving her clouded thoughts on the street corner. She is alive, happy and all her needs are met.
Life is what you make of it. | 
