He took one arm and one leg and flipped me over, onto my stomach, then pulled up my nightgown. I hid my eyes in the crook of my arm and waited. I heard the hissing noise before I felt it. It was a wire hanger, just like in the movie 'Mommie Dearest.' And they hurt like fire, thin lines of fire all up and down my back, my ass, my legs. I started crying, then I started screaming. He stopped just long enough to stuff a handkerchief in my mouth, tying it with a pair of panties, then kept whipping me with the hanger. He spread my legs and started whipping my thighs, then whipped me once right between my legs. I screamed and fainted.

When I woke up, I was tied spread-eagle to the bed. He left me there like that all night as punishment, and Anna laughed at me from the doorway. I had to sleep on my stomach for two weeks. I never touched myself down there again, until. . .until you.

This went on. . .God, for years, until I got into high school. Then, about six months before my fifteenth birthday, I met Josh Petersson. That isn't exactly right - I mean, the Petersson's had lived in the town all my life. Our families hung out together. I just never paid very much attention to Josh before - I mean, he was just some boy in the neighborhood. But in my sophomore year we both entered projects in the science fair. He had the table next to mine and we started talking. We started to study together sometimes in the school library. Since the Petersson farm was out of town he always offered to walk me home after school. Our house was on the edge of town you see, near the church.

That's when it started. He was so sweet and funny, and I loved listening to him tell about his family's trips to the Grand Canyon or what he wanted to do when he got older. He'd tease me, trying to make me laugh, and I started to feel safe with him. Somehow, we started holding hands on the way home, and then I let him kiss me. It was nothing like. . .him. Josh was sweet, and innocent, and it felt so wonderful when he put his arms around me. He asked me to be his girlfriend, and I said yes.

Oh, God. Now, I wish I had said no.

But I didn't care then. I was so happy that Josh liked me - it was something all my own, something pure and good. On the other hand, I was terrified that. . .he. . .would find out, from Anna or one of my friends. I told Josh that we had to keep it secret - I made up some lie about reverends' daughters not being allowed to date until they were sixteen. He believed me and promised he wouldn't tell a soul.

We kept it up like that for months. Sometimes, I'd manage to sneak away and meet him at this little house on his parent's property. He called it Patrick's house, and said that it would be his someday. We'd wander through it, pretending that we were married and living there, and it was the happiest time of my life.

Then, the day before my fifteenth birthday, Josh said that he had a surprise for me and I was supposed to meet him at Patrick's house in the afternoon. I told Momma that I had to stay after school and help one of the teachers mark papers. I don't think she really believed me, but she let me go anyway - it sounded reasonable, and would keep him happy. After school, I ran to Patrick's house, dodging showers feeling somehow alive. Josh was waiting for me inside, and swept me into his arms the minute I came through the door. We just stood like that for a minute, the two of us safe against the world, as he kissed my hair and told me that I was beautiful, wonderful, that he loved me so much. I looked up at him, and saw the love in his eyes. I knew, then, that he was the only one I wanted to spend my life with.

He led me up the dark, narrow stairs, to one of the little bedrooms. There, he had set up a checkered red cloth on the floor with this gorgeous little picnic lunch - he even managed to filch a bottle of wine from his dad's basement. We sat down, and he insisted on serving me my fried chicken and salad and cookies. It was all part of the service, he said, laughing. My first glass of wine was in one of those little plastic wineglasses, like you can get in the grocery store. It was the best meal I ever had, and I leaned over to kiss him afterwards, as a thank you.

I'm not quite sure how it happened. I don't remember a lot of it - I thought later on that maybe I was blanking on some of it, because of what he did to me. We lay down on the blanket, in a square of sunlight that came streaming through one of the windows. It was a funny day, sunlight and showers, like the world couldn't make up its mind. I do remember watching the dust motes dance in the sunlight, like golden bubbles in the wine. I remember I was happy, and I remember Josh kissing me, and telling me that he loved me. I must have helped him take off my dress - I don't see how he could've gotten it off in one piece, otherwise. He kept kissing me all over, telling me I was beautiful, so white and smooth, like ivory.

He. . .we. . .made love, I guess. It wasn't just sex, like with him. It was love, and Josh cried out my name at the end. I lay there, under him, and felt the love coming out of him, and tried to ignore the voices in my head telling me I was dirty, a whore. I couldn't be - someone like Josh wouldn't love a whore.

He held me afterwards, and told me not to worry - he wanted to marry me, and if I got pregnant he'd just marry me that much sooner. He even brought out this little box, covered in velvet, and gave it to me. It contained a thin gold band, his great-grandmother's wedding ring, he said. It would do until he could afford a real engagement ring - then he stopped, and looked at me.

Will you marry me, Caroline, he asked. I said yes, and started crying.

That's. . .that's when it started to go wrong. Josh wanted to talk to him and get his permission to marry me. I told him he couldn't - my father would never agree. He insisted that this was something he had to do, that he was proud of his love for me and didn't want to hide it anymore. We fought about it, and finally I stood up and grabbed my dress, crying. I told him that if he really loved me he would listen to me and not say anything to my father. I was so scared - for me, for him. Somehow, I knew what would happen if anyone tried to take me away from the Conway house. I ran out of there, buttoning my dress and crying. I could hear Josh calling my name, but I just kept going - I couldn't think, I was so confused and scared. The next day, I had my birthday party. He had allowed me to invite some of the kids from school, but Josh didn't come. I kept checking the door, hoping that he would forgive me and come anyway. I wanted to see him so badly. But he never showed up.

The party was nice, I guess. I had a cake, and candles, and presents from everybody. I couldn't really enjoy it, though, I was so worried about Josh. I didn't really notice as all the guests started leaving, until the house was quiet again. Just us four. Anna wound up going to sleep early - I think she was mad that I was the center of attention for once, and she couldn't do a thing about it. Maybe an hour later, he took me by the shoulders and said that he had a special present to give me. I still remember that smile, and Momma sitting at the kitchen table, not daring to look up. He took me upstairs, to their bedroom, and told me to pull my shorts down and unbutton my shirt. I thought we were going to do what we'd always done, but he pushed me on the bed and told me to stay on my back this time.

I closed my eyes, and prayed to God to let me die. I heard the zipper, then the rustle of cloth as he took his pants off. The bedsprings creaked as he climbed on. He. . .he. . .oh. He got on top of me, and I could feel it between my legs, poking me. Then he pushed it in, hard. He. . .I know now, he must have been trying to break my maidenhead. Josh had been so careful, so gentle. All he wanted to do was hurt me.

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