Day 7

Your character gets a call from someone asking to talk to "David." "You have

the wrong number," your character says. But instead of hanging up, the caller

and your character get to chatting, and they decide to meet later that night...

I’ve never done this before, so wish me luck. Tonight I’m going to meet a total stranger and take him to my bed. You may well ask why…. Well, it ‘s like this. I am ready to lose my virginity! You may well be shocked. You’re probably like my mam, who always says you should wait till you’re in love and married.

Ha! Little does she know about the world as it is now. N o education, no prospects, no money nothing to look forward to. Why should I wait to experience life? .

All my friends are boasting that they have already had sex with a man, and they’re all laughing and sniggering at my innocence so I had better get on and do it.

Will it hurt; all the books say that it might hurt if you’re a virgin. All the books say that you have got to use protection. What is the best protection?. What if he’s too big for me?. Will I like it? I don’t know.

Now I’m beginning to get cold feet. Should I or shouldn’t I? Who can I ask.

It all sounded so good this morning when I answered my mobile. Some guy with a really sexy voice asked for someone called “David”. I said, did I sound like a David, and he laughed. That was the start of it. He asked me what my real name was, and then said he’d like to call me David , anyway, since that was how we met. How we met, oh wow! This guy was flirting with me. He sounded so cool. We kept talking on the phone, and he asked me to meet him tonight at the local club. I couldn’t tell him I was too young to get into the club, now could I? He obviously thought I was older and from our conversations he must have thought I was sexy, because he kept making suggestive remarks like he’d like to touch me all over, and he could imagine how good I looked naked just from my voice. Stuff like that. . So I agreed. I felt so good; someone actually thought I was worth dating.

What do I wear?. If mam saw me going out in anything other than school uniform she’d have a hissy fit and want to know where I was going and who I was meeting. I called around to my friends and asked them what would I be wearing to go to the club. That meant I had to tell them the story of the phone call and they were all curious about the cool guy I had arranged to meet. Anyway, one or two of them offered to lend me some clothes that they thought would be sexy enough, then they said they’d do my hair and makeup, just to make me look a bit older.

We spent the afternoon, giggling and trying on short skirts, and filmy blouses, tank tops and tight fitting tees. My best friend talked me into trying her high heeled shoes , so that I would look taller and skinnier, but oh, how they hurt my feet. Still, vanity requires pain, doesn’t it? And I want to look good tonight.

The next question was , how could I get past mam later this evening. The time he gave me to meet outside the club was 9.30 tonight, when I should be doing my homework at the kitchen table………… I’ll have to ask her if she’ll let me do a sleepover with one of my friends. I will promise mam that I’ll do my homework over there, and I will promise to call her before we go to sleep, and that I will get up early enough to go to school tomorrow. Do you think that will work?

Oh, I still don’t know if I should do this………….. should I tell lies. I know what my friends will say, they’ll say go for it. You only live once, and so and so on. Not only that they had all told me what it would be like, and they had lent me all those clothes and shoes, and makeup. What will happen if I don’t go to the club tonight. He knows my phone number. He knows how to reach me. What should I do?

Who can I ask?

****************************************************************************************

A phone rang.

A woman answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello? David?”

“No. It’s Ali; I think you might have the wrong number.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes...No, David was meant to pick me up.”

“Pick you up?”

“From the airport.”

“Oh. Manchester?”

“Yes”
“You could get a cab?”

“No cash.”

“Have you tried calling him?”

“Yes...you answered.”

“Where do you need to get to?”

“David’s house.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Excuse me?”

She was gone. She didn’t know why she was doing this. He was a stranger, a man she had never laid eyes on.

There had been something in his voice, calling to her, asking for help, her help.

Her resolution left her when she saw the large man who was waiting under the arrival sign. He was tall and well built, menacingly so. Scraggly brown hair was tied at the nape of his neck, revealing a multitude of tattoos, some of which appeared satanic.

This man was clearly trouble.

He still hadn’t seen her. He would never know the difference if she just turned and left. It wasn’t wrong, not really. It was for her own survival. He was dangerous.

Prejudice won.

She fled.