Stolen Kiss, Lost Virginity

After getting settled in my room at the Camelot Inn, things began to go downhill very quickly. I don't remember how fast it all happened, but it must have occurred at a rather rapid pace, even though time seemed to crawl by so slowly.
I was headed into my grody motel room, unlocking the door. As I did so, a tall, black, muscular man strode down the hall towards me, and started talking to me in a low tone. What he said is lost in my memories, except that he wanted to come in. I said no, I shouldn't, that I was busy. He came right up to me, towering over me (at the time I was 5'10" tall, and not short) and he leaned in, coercing me to let him in. He told me he just wanted to talk. I don't know what I thought was going to happen, but I most certainly was not prepared for how things did happen. I responded to his touches because I felt like I should, or as though someone else was moving my arms and hands for me. I felt disconnected from my body, and within a short time, I was left alone, knowing only that his name was Gotti, he would be back, and that I had just lost my first kiss, and my virginity to a total stranger. I fell on the wet carpet and the pain that he had caused my body felt small compared to the emotional pain I was feeling. I cried harder and harder, and stood in front of the mirror, mouthing silent screams at myself. "SO STUPID! YOU'RE SO FUCKING STUPID!" and I began to punch the now wet sheets, that were becoming wetter with my tears. I felt as though the pain I felt would never leave. And I thought that now I could never face my family. I had planned to save everything for marriage, including my first kiss. And now my parents would be so disappointed in me, I could never face them again. My life was over. I was broken. Dirty. Used. Common filth.
I cleaned myself up, my body aching, bleeding. I went for a walk, cars honking at me. I kept walking.
I had met a girl earlier, named Unique, who asked if I worked the streets too. I was confused, but figured it out. She was a prostitute, and she told me I could do it too.
She was a black girl, and wore a blond wig. With dimple piercings and a red dress to complete the ensemble, I felt both comforted by her presence somehow, but also threatened.
She had taken me back to her motel room down the road to meet her 'friend'. His name was Q. Or, he went by the name Q just like she went by the name Unique.
They seemed nice to me, so in my trouble, I went to go find them. They had left. I had wanted to ask her where I could find birth control. I didn't even think about condoms. Just...birth control.
But she was nowhere to be found. And I began to walk back to motel gross.
I felt like I had lost everything; at that point, I may very well have had nothing. However, there was so much more I was going to learn I could lose.
Meeting Unique and Q proved to be instrumental that week. In fact, I may not be who I am today if I hadn't met a certain girl with a bedraggled blond wig on a bench on Biscayne.
But losing my virginity, at that time, in that way, was a soul crusher for me. I must have been very naive to have thought that I could runaway and not lose my virginity, or in the least, lose it and not feel the way I did - demolished.

The time continued to crawl, but things happened so quickly and with such a vengeance that settling became a foreign concept, one that I would struggle with for years to come.