Page 96 of My Heart Still Beats
“You’re so pretty, Tessa,” he says.
I like being called pretty. Mommy and Da say I’m pretty. Nana says I’m beautiful. But this is the first time someone other than a member of my family has said I’m pretty.
I like it. It makes me feel nice.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Let me check your panties, and then you’ll be ready for first communion.”
I look around. “Where are the other girls? Are you going to check their panties?”
“I already did. You’re the last one.”
Did he? He must have done that before I got to the sacristy.
“Good girl. You stand still.”
I obey him. He’s older than I am, and I do want to have my first communion. So he’ll check my panties, and then I’ll go back to the sacristy and wait for Father Sam.
He comes toward me. “Hold up your dress again.”
I do, covering my face with the skirt and squeezing my eyes shut. This is obviously something I have to do, so why does it feel all kinds of wrong?
He touches his finger to my panties and then slides his hand underneath. “Good. Now, whatever you do, don’t make any noise. This is very important.”
“Why would I make any noise?”
“Because sometimes it hurts when I check panties. But it’s all part of the process of your first communion. This is a secret between you and me and God. He’ll never forgive you if you tell, and you won’t get your first communion.”
“And Father Sam?”
“Yes, he knows, but you can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone, or you can’t have your first communion. Do you understand?”
“Okay.”
He slides his fingers underneath my panties and then between my legs.
And then he—
I gasp. Something is inside me. Inside a place I don’t understand. And it hurts. It hurts so bad. It feels like he’s cutting me with a sharp knife.
But I don’t dare scream.
I don’t dare say anything.
I want my first communion.
When he’s finally done, it still hurts. “Take off your panties now.”
“What?” I want to sob. Cry out. Beg him not to hurt me again.
“God needs your panties so you can have your first communion. Father Sam asked me to tell you.”
He yanks the panties down, and I step out of them, staring at my shiny white shoes.
“Put your dress down now,” he says. “And remember, this is a secret. This is a secret between you and me and God. He’ll never forgive you if you tell, and you won’t get your first communion. So pretend it didn’t happen. In fact, say it now, Tessa. Say this didn’t happen.”
“This didn’t happen,” I gulp out.
