My mother and I parked across the street of an abortion center in Memphis, TN. I’m unsure of the name, she told me she has been here before. I remember what I was wearing. A pink shirt and blue jeans shorts. I was innocent before and that day my innocence was taken from me. Approaching the center we were encountered with protesters. They had signs that were vulgar, pictures of dead babies. My mother told me to ignore them, not to look them in the eyes. Still, the words they were saying haunt me. “Please keep your baby”, “Jesus loves you and your baby”. I continued to walk across the street and with the advice from my mother. I did not look them in the eyes, for fear I would change my mind. The waiting room looked like my grandmothers living room. It was and old building. It had a fire place and as I was admiring it the nurse called me back. They plopped me in the chair to take a blood sample. I’ve always hated having my blood taken. I winced at the sight of the needle. The rude nurse exclaimed, “this is the least of your worries, you made a baby, you can have your blood taken.” My mother whom I’ve always leaned on was not allowed past the waiting room at that moment. Next, I was taken to a room with a consuler who asked me, “Is anyone pressuring you? Is this really what you want to do?” I should have screamed “NO”. Instead I nodded my head yes while the woman played a short video on an abortion procedure. The nurses gave me Xanax and Percocits. Two things that were unfamiliar with my seveteen year old body. I returned to the waiting room with the fire place that reminded me of my childhood. I sat in a brown leather chair for what felt like hours but in honesty they probably called me back once they saw the pain pills kick in. I walked up a set of stairs to a room with an operating table, a doctor and nurses all happy to see me. My mother held me the entire time I walked up the stairs and helped me onto the bed. The doctor asked me once more if this is what I wanted to do. I replied “yes”. With no hesitation he stuck a tub into my vagina while placing a hand one my lower stomach. What was probably five minutes felt like an eternity. I screamed, I cried, I pleaded for them to stop. They didn’t stop and my baby was gone. I walked out of the same building I walked into pregnant, with zero relief. Nothing felt better. I realized what I had done and I will forever regret it for the rest fo my life.