Nervously, my father came to me and bent down. He pressed his warm hands on my cheeks and his eyes seemed to soften with sadness. “Daughter,” he whispered. “You must go in the back room with young Micah. Do not come out until I tell you, understand?”
“I understand, Father,” I replied, still feeling the sensation of fear in my stomach.
Father sighed. “You are too beautiful, daughter. My heart worries that the devil is within you. That you are a cu—Argh! I cannot bring myself to speak the word. I do not want to admit that you may be one of them.”
I sucked in a shocked breath.
One of whom?
Abruptly, Father stood up. “Your trial will be in remaining pure. I am praying God will not forsake you. Let us all pray that you do not become a fallen sister.”
I gulped in trepidation. A fallen. I knew that word: a woman who has dealings with the devil.
“Go to Micah. Now.”
Ducking my head in dutiful obedience, I scurried down the wooden hallway, each step in sync with my pounding heart. I burst into the bedroom at the end. Micah, my friend, was sitting in the middle of the room, filling in one of his coloring books.
He turned head his toward me and smiled. “Greetings, Sister.”
I made my way to Micah and sat beside him, immediately looking down at what he was coloring in.
I gasped in shock.
Micah looked at me and frowned.
“What are you coloring, Micah?” I said, checking the bedroom door was closed. The pictures were sinful. Rude. Forbidden.Micah laid a hand on my shoulder. “Be calm, sister. I am attending Celestial School now. The prophet’s disciples have been educating me on The Order’s new scripture. Of our new duties as the Lord’s chosen people. Of how to embrace God’s love.”
Leaning down, I studied the black-and-white outline of the scene in Micah’s book. It was a young boy touching a girl… in her forbidden place. They were both smiling. The young girl’s mouth was dropped open and her eyes were tightly closed.
I jumped as I felt Micah’s hand slowly lift up the long skirt of my dress, and I slapped away his hand. “What are you doing?” I said in fear, ripping my gaze from the book.
Micah’s lips pursed together to form a tight line. “We have been taught at school how we should begin to touch others… of how we should begin to touch girls. The Lord wants us to grow close to Him through our shared love… through our bodies. Through touching each other’s forbidden places. It is supposed to feel very good. Prophet David has ordered us to do this.”
Micah suddenly jumped on top of me and held me to the ground by my arms, straddling my waist, a cool draft of air informing me my dress had risen to my thighs, exposing my modesty. Micah was nine years old and much stronger than me. I tried to fight him off but failed. His mouth suddenly smashed against my lips and his tongue invaded my mouth; it was wet and sloppy, and I hated it. I quickly turned my head and tears formed in my eyes.
“Micah, please!” I whispered. “What are you doing? You are scaring me.”
“Relax, sister, I see my father doing this with lots of women and, since the prophet’s new revelation, with young girls. They look like they enjoy it; some are not much older than you. It brings us all closer to the Lord. You have seen the pictures in my coloring book. Prophet David wants us to be closer to each other, for closeness brings a unity to the Lord. And you are so beautiful… so tempting. I want to touch you like the boy touches the girl in the picture. My stomach and below feel all funny when I see you. I cannot stop watching you. I think about you all the time, even in my dreams. All the boys at school talk of you.”
“Micah!”
A loud, angry voice blared from the doorway. In an instant, Micah and I froze. Heavy feet stomped in the room and standing above us were my father and Brother Luke.
Brother Luke picked Micah up by the collar of his tunic, and Micah began to scream. Brother Luke slapped him across the face. Micah quieted, blubbering quietly to himself.
“You insolent child! She has not yet been approved for the Lord’s Sharing by the prophet! Do you know what this means? You will be punished! I must report you to the prophet’s aid. It is God’s will! You stupid, stupid boy! You must practice self-control!”
Fixing the long skirt of my dress and ignoring Brother Luke’s reprimand of Micah, I got to my feet on shaky legs. I ran to my father for comfort. But as I approached, he held out his arm, a frighteningly cold expression on his face.
I stopped dead.
“F-Father?” I whispered.