Every girl
has that one terrible horror story from back in their early teenage years. You know, the typical fear of your period,
the fear of starting high school, and all that nonsense. And I, Breann Hill, just like everyone else
had one as well, except mine was a bit different.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCiuvlY2AM4T0j3ZoR7g8S2eohZY9KQIrmqgyFefoNXy93CJk3-Fm7XvoPNiZyDshhObU0Db9tYX2OthIduMZrAq0FBkQfxsnWXJ0AS_qldKlXtZe6x2U9PeoDsesIlARtyHT1kNs0Kj7i/s1600/32539_1494510165499_5836040_n.jpg)
Later that
night all I remember was going back to my house with my mom and sitting. Not crying anymore, not asking why, just
sitting. Letting it all really sink in
so I could come to my senses and realize this was real life and it wasn’t a bad
dream I would suddenly awaken from. That
was my first reaction to it all with a long road ahead no one can truly prepare
for. photo credit Breann Hill