And AIDS became what was ignored as we chatted. The day I found out: I took each of you aside, I told each of you what was happening.

I lived nostalgia before it happened to any of us. I captured the beautiful about us, dried it out, and hung it up for the viewers. We had a game where we trashed bathrooms. We would laugh as one of us crashed into someone. On the streets, we would push each other into strangers. I came home to the phone, gossiping with the girls I just left on the bus. Running with girls who held the power of a room. Wearing denim shorts and flipping my hair just right. I tried to push it away with Yearbook, with partying, with Phish shows, and with ’80s movies, but it was there, no matter what. My father’s sickness an omnipresent force in my life. When I was 17, in 1993–94 Manhattan, I was haunted by AIDS. Photo taken by her mom, Mariette Pathy Allen. Guest post by Cordelia Jensen Cordelia at 17. Read on to see what haunted her when she was 17 years old, in poem form…

Today’s featured Haunted at 17 story is by Cordelia Jensen. Starting today, I’ll be featuring (at least!) FIVE of the Haunted at 17 posts that you wrote and either posted on your blogs or emailed to me.

Thank you so much for reading the Haunted at 17 blog series to celebrate the publication of my new novel, 17 & Gone ! To mark the release of this story about a 17-year-old girl haunted by the missing, I asked some authors I know to join me in answering this question: What haunted YOU at 17? They answered, and now it’s your turn.

Haunted by Melissa Crowe