My Daughter in Ashes

By Marchela Wells

Similar to Rising from the Ashes, the overall theme is getting involved in what the crowd wants, which can often lead to places that the young should not go. Neither my wife nor I faced these things in our own lives. I was often tempted during my years in the US Navy but never strayed. We both were raised to respect our elders and not give ourselves over to wanton behaviors, drunkenness, sexual perversions, or drugs. Neither of us had sex before marriage, attended drunken parties, etc. We have remained faithful to our religion as well as each other and have survived forty-six (forty-seven in February of 2017) years of marriage.

Sad to say, I had two daughters. No matter what my wife or I would do or try to teach them, they always knew better. Both girls went down the paths that I describe in these novels (just in slightly different variations). Their lives today are filled with problems, and they suffer from these mistakes of youth and have the diseases and debilitations of the body that result from those actions.

Jesus offered an opportunity to the young prostitutes and robbers of his day for redemption and salvation. My novels endeavor to take that message and offer it to todays young who are willing to read and understand.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524553906

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

A boring childhood. (A scene from after the middle of the story. Closer to the end than the beginning)

Dr. Owen Williamson reached down, patted Buster’s head softly. He felt comforted the dog was so protective of his mistress. He watched the girl’s breathing as it became slow and steady, needing to make sure she was relaxed, ready for the session. The expression on Molly’s face, sweet, troubled.

‘Oh, Molly. Your lips are so tempting. I would give anything to brush them with my own.’

Buster had been pacing back and forth around Molly’s prone body for several minutes. But now, more certain the man sitting in the grass beside her meant no harm to his mistress, he wagged his tail then lay down at her feet. Letting his head relax and rest again on her shin. His eyes remained focused on her face. Now and then a small whimper escaped from the dog as the girl spoke of painful memories.

A squirrel’s sharp chirp startled Dr. Williamson back to his duty and caused Buster to emit a warning growl.

*****

Molly…, Molly, can you hear me?"

‘Owen’s voice startled me out of my nightmare. The bad memory disappeared.’

"Stay with me now; I need you to move back beyond that time at the sorority. Think back to when you were living with your parents. A time when you were alone in your room, lying on your bed, daydreaming. Before all of the bad events in your life began. Yes, that’s it. You’re lying on your bed, looking up at the ceiling. The ceiling fan is blowing cool air down on your face. There, see the blades turning slowly, gently. The air is cool. You can feel the cool air blowing softly.

Now, tell me what is happening.

‘Owen, please hold me in your arms. Please kiss me. Please let me know you can forgive me for my past, my evil past. I’m so ashamed. Please…’

Molly, please focus. You are laying on your bed. What are you doing? What is on your mind?

******

‘My name is Molly Lynn Corbett, but I prefer to be called Moll. I was born in Richardson, Texas, a suburb of Dallas. I’ve lived my entire life there. I had always believed I would grow up, find a boyfriend, perhaps a nice job, later find a rich husband, have kids, die, be buried in a local cemetery. I did have ambitions; I believed when I grew up, I would be a nurse or perhaps clothing designer. Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever conceived of what a disaster my real life was to become.

‘My world consisted of my fam, you know --Mom and Dad. I had no siblings; I had always been alone. When I started school I tended to run with the pack, so to speak. My best friends were the girls who slunk against the school lockers while the other girls tagged along with the boys. I didn’t get into them much. -- boys, that is, oh -- they were okay, I preferred to hang around on the sidelines, not to mix in with them much, or truth be told, not at all. Not exactly a complete wallflower, but shy and reserved. However, I knew I would grow up, find a rich husband just like Elizabeth Bennett or Jane Eyre (hopefully without all the drama); we would live happily ever after. OMG! Is that a thing?

‘When I looked in the mirror, I saw a relatively pretty young lady. Five feet, seven inches, one-hundred nineteen pounds, strawberry blonde hair, which I had cut short this year. Shapely body, smooth skin, pretty smile, in short everything, a nice boy might wish, or so I had believed. Why had it not come true? Why did the boys look so nervous, shy away from me when I came near them? Oh SWERVE doe!

‘Mom and Dad were always pushing me to join in something -- the band, choir, Girl Scouts, anything to get me out of the house, mixing with girls my age. I did want to be a member of something, but either I had never measured up to whatever a group seemed to want, or my parents didn’t have enough money to purchase all of the special clothes and equipment required. I was the typical high school girl, lusting after the football stars – my problem was I only could do it from a distance. I felt they were too far above me. The girls who did hook up with them always seemed prettier than me, or so I thought. Once, when I did screw up my courage a bit, I tried but failed miserably.

"One day I was in the lunch line. There was a good looking football linebacker right in front of me. I approached him, was almost ready to say hello, I could have reached out, grabbed his hand. I started to; I lifted my hand to touch his shoulder when another girl butted in line, stole my opportunity. I kicked myself for not pushing her back out of the way. Oh well, I sighed, there will be another time. Am I right ladies?

*****

Molly, these phrases you keep saying. What do they mean?

Doc, if you don’t know already – why they’re just plain English.

But, Molly, --

"Doc, I can’t even."

Oh well. Just continue – I guess that I’m too old for that slang.

*****

‘Did I have daydreams of the perfect boy? Sure. I had read several love stories, including a great one by Jane Austen titled Pride and Prejudice. I swooned over the dark and handsome Mr. Darcy and daydreamed of being Elizabeth Bennett.

‘Weeks came and went, then months and finally the school year was over. I was still the dumb girl in the back of the room. None of the guys sought me out; I was back to giggling by the school lockers with other girls who had my same problem.

‘I didn’t understand; my hair was fairly pretty, I kept it clean and brushed. My parents bought me nice clothes to wear from Wal-Mart or the Dollar Store. Perhaps I was a bit skinny by some standards. But my physical shape was pretty good. My boobs had come in -- looking at my profile in the mirror; I thought I looked hot.

‘Well, maybe not HOT, but certainly good enough to attract at least one boy, with measurements of 34B-26-36, I was armed and dangerous with what I believed the right weapons on my chest., larger than several of my friends, but not as huge as some. I did have a bad round of the pimples last year; however, mom had gotten me some creams, they were all now in the past, thank God.

‘I HATE PIMPLES.’

‘Why, then, had it never happened? What was I doing wrong?’ Why couldn’t I attract at least one boy?’ I kept pondering this question over and over.

‘Do I have the sign of the Weerebeast on my forehead, or maybe there was a rumor I had the plague?’

*****

Molly, focus on what you’re doing. Please continue.

Jeez, Doc. You’re such a drag sometimes.

*****

‘Yes, I see myself now. I’m at home, laying on top of my bed. I threw the coverlet off me because it was too hot, I couldn’t get the nap I so desperately needed. Sleep, I wanted to sleep to forget all of the rejections and humiliations I received every day. Girls laugh at me, boys ignore me, everyone telling cruel jokes behind my back. I want a boyfriend, desperately, yet I can’t get any boy to like me. What’s my problem? I don’t understand. Am I so ugly no boy could ever care for me?’

*****

That’s it, Molly. Now tell me about what happened next.

With Molly’s calmer demeanor, and the squirrel frightened away, Buster lay down again, placing his head on her stomach. All the while, he maintained a close watch on the doctor. At one point the doctor could tell the dog sensed the pain in Molly’s dreams. Buster guarded Molly closely, sensitive to anything that might upset or endanger his mistress. He sensed many of her physical injuries were something he might have prevented had he been able. He couldn’t understand the pain of these mental injuries. But the dog did seem to understand somehow the efforts of the man, who was watching over her now, as she seemed to sleep and speak, sometimes in pain, sometimes in happiness, were meant only for healing.

That’s it, Molly. I think you’ve found the start, the place where all of your troubles began. Can you tell me more? What else do you see in the room?

‘I see some small books, oh… yes. Those are my diary’s. I’m reading several of them.’

*****

I had kept a diary every day since first grade. I stared at them now, sitting in a stack in the bottom of my nightstand. I reached down, rummaged through the pile until I found one of my earliest ones. I opened it to a random page near the middle.

Wednesday – Caught bus to Greenwood Street with Dad. Arrived home - eight p.m. Bedtime.

Friday – New Year’s – stayed home, watched a football game with dad on TV. Bedtime.

Saturday – I rolled Mrs. Adams hair, painted her nails. Played with my dolls. Bedtime.

*****

‘What was I, an idiot? This whole diary is nothing but child’s talk. How stupid. -- Jeez!’

****

I shoved the diary back in the stack. The next one I pulled out must have written when I was in the seventh grade:

Saturday – cleaned my room. Fixed mom’s hair. Went downtown shopping with mom.

Sunday – Came home after church. It rained all afternoon.

Monday – took a spelling test. More rain. Stayed home, watched TV.

****

‘Boring, boring, boring. My life was boring. It doesn’t look like I had learned anything at all during those years. I must be some social jerk or something. I remember the year clearly. It was the year my boobs sprouted on my chest, the dreaded monthly flow from between my legs. YUCK!

‘It was an exciting time, lots of boys looked at me, but there was always some girl in the class sitting next to them who would pull down their sweater top giving the boys a peek, or even pull up their skirt, show their panties. I never did; it was too embarrassing, so the boys quickly lost interest in me. I was always too afraid that I would leave a puddle of blood on my desk-chair.’

Molly -- the diaries. What else was in them?

****

I grabbed another diary from nearer to the top of the stack.

Monday – Weather was fair today. I didn’t do much.

Wednesday – Went to see Aunt Kathy. Not home. Mom got gas for the car. Came home.

Friday – went to school. Very cold. Came home. We watched TV rerun of a cartoon show.

****

‘Who lives like this? I was boring. My life was boring. I wanted to do something exciting. To go places, meet people. Meet a boy, have fun. Looking at these diary’s, the true story of my life was depressing. I realized now; I wasn’t going anywhere. I would never be anybody. I hate my life; I hate myself. I’m a loser. I’m a total, wasted loser.’

****

"Molly, how about your parents, didn’t they help you, didn’t they offer you suggestions?" Owens’ voice gently nudged me.

‘Yes, Owen, but – but, you know how parents are. They never understood me or any of my problems.’

*****

Moll, Mom called me from the den. Can you come in here for a minute? Your father and I would like to talk to you about next year.

Okay, Mom, be there in a sec. Let me get a robe.

‘Figures! I’ll bet mom and dad want to rehash the old song about me joining the band or something. God, I can’t even carry a tune, much less play trombone or something. If I know my luck, the band director would probably make me play the tuba. God, that thing is huge. I don’t even know if I could lift one, much less blow into it and get a sound out.’

A few minutes later I sat down in the easy chair across from the couch where my parents waited. I looked at them; I could see how happy they were together. They went shopping together, took me places, they hugged, kissed, all while doing the dishes. Mostly they laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. They weren’t rich and didn’t have a lot of money to go to shows and parties and things. Mostly we just hung around the house.

The TV had been going in the corner, but Dad put the sound on mute, both looked at me for a moment.

‘Where could I find a boy like my dad? They don’t seem to exist anymore."

Moll, Mom began. You’re a senior in high school this year; you’re going to graduate in a few months. Have you submitted any applications to colleges for next year yet?

Yes, Mom. The high school counselor worked with me on completing an application for the local junior college. I haven’t decided what I want to do in life; so she suggested junior college would be a good place to begin. She said I could get the basic courses down, like Algebra, History, Biology, you know – the boring subjects -- then by the time I was ready to graduate on to a four-year school I could focus on a major.

‘Actually, it was a bit of a stretch, the counselor had worked with me, sure, I think she filled in most of the answers. It was all too boring for me. School? God -- who gives a flip? I’ve been going to school since I was six years old, five if you count kindergarten. I want to get out, live my life. Do things -- have fun. Four more years in a boring school. I’ve had it with school. I’d much rather be a tramp, maybe live under a highway bridge; yeah, sounds neat. I could go to parties whenever I wanted, meet guys. Have fun. Isn’t that what the U.S. Constitution guarantees me? – ‘The Pursuit of Happiness." Yeah, I want to pursue happiness. -- sounds like fun.’

Sounds great, Moll, Mom’s voice broke into my daydream.

‘I flushed, thinking I had said the last thought out loud. God, how embarrassing. Then I realized mom was simply continuing where she had left off.’

Now we really would like you to become more involved in outside activities. It’s a little late to be thinking band, or choir. Have you thought about other things like Fine Arts subjects like Acting, or Painting, maybe the school newspaper?

Yes, Mom, Dad. I’ll try harder this year. I’m sure there will be something in school I can join.

‘God – these two are hopeless. They must have been born back in the stone ages. Things don’t work like that anymore. The only girls who do the good stuff are the really pretty ones. Look at me. I’m simply a regular Plane Jane. No one wants to have anything to do with a dull, ugly idiot like me.’

*****

‘Needless to say, I was trapped. I had no money or friends who would put me up in their parents’ homes, so I ended up at the local Community College, stayed in the dorm with another social idiot like myself. – So, here I am, at home again, two years of Junior College later.

‘I had failed again miserably to attract a boy. I made fairly good grades but spent most of my time moping around my dorm room, never venturing out. I seemed to be invisible to all of the boys I saw daily in classes. I didn’t have the nerve to speak to any of them, even though several gave me the impression they thought I was cute in a weird way. –Yeah, make the emphasis on WEIRD. That’s me.’

‘The only incidents I can recall getting me hot was one way when my close friend, Mindy, and I were in class, sitting in the back of the room.

Stop bugging me about your tits, Moll, Mindy complained. There’s an easy way to get the boys interested in you. I can’t exactly explain it to you, but you need to focus on what the guys want. If you’re smart, you’ll figure it out. Now if you don’t be quiet, I’m going to lick your face.

But, Mindy, my boobs. Don’t you think they’re good enough to attract a boy? I kept bugging her, trying to get her to reveal why all the boys hung around her all the time.

‘C’mon, Mindy, please tell me the secret. How do you always get A’s in this class? I know you never study," I kept on -- thinking she was kidding about the licking part.

I warned you, she cried suddenly, grabbing my hair, holding my head while she licked up my entire face.

YUCK! Everyone in the class laughed at us, even the teacher. I wanted to die.

Then there was another time we had gone to the girls’ restroom.

Moll, I’m going to take all my clothes off now. So, look the other way if you don’t want to see me totally naked. Oh, I forgot, I do have thong so I won’t be ‘completely nude.

Mindy started undressing; she didn’t care about exposing herself. She giggled when she had finished. Since her boobs weren’t quite as big as mine, other girls in the restroom laughed at her. I didn’t laugh; I only wished I was brave enough to do such daring things. Maybe give some good looking boy a peek?

‘Maybe just one time? -- Nah! Too embarrassing! Besides, I had never had them show me what was behind their zippers! Turnabout was fair play, or so I had heard. You know, ‘you show me yours, I’ll show you mine?’

Mindy had told me it looked kind of like a banana, but I didn’t believe her. Then is sex education class we had to put a rubber on a banana, that was the clincher. I went around every day afterward, trying to imagine a small yellow banana hiding behind every boy’s zipper. Then, one day in history class, I broke out giggling when I was looking at the boy sitting next to me and saw a huge bulge behind his zipper, he was rubbing his hand up and down on the bulge.

I couldn’t help myself, I continued to giggle until the teacher came to my desk and slapped my hand with a ruler; the boy smiled a secret smile at me. I was TOTALLY humiliated.

‘What was that about?’

‘The last time Mindy tortured me was when I was walking to class one day, she snuck up behind me, grabbed both of my butt cheeks which scared the hell out of me. I thought it was some guy I had walked past. I screamed and embarrassed myself in front of all the other kids. Mindy is a strange one, to say the least.

‘But then, I’m not much better, am I?’’

After graduation, I moved back in for the summer with mom and dad. Just when I was at my lowest ebb, the same old conversation came back.

Moll, you need to get out more… mom droned on.

‘Blah, blah, blah. -- Mom had been going on for nearly ten minutes when she offered me a suggestion which might offer a chance for me.

…I think you can get into at least one of the sororities. You need to get more involved in life rather than lying on your dorm bed all night every night.

‘Yeah, a sorority. Why hadn’t I thought of it?’’

I was going to leave for a senior college the following week. I was going to be a Junior this year. I made up my mind. I was going to change my life and the way I lived.

No matter what!’

My subconscious started to say something but thought the better of it when I gave her a mean look.

‘One of them is sure to be full of girls like me. I know I could have fun in one of those. Maybe catch one of the other girl’s cast-off boyfriends or something. Who knows, they have parties, don’t they? There’s bound to be some college guys hanging out there looking for a date. A sorority! That’s it. I’m going to be a sorority girl in college. Yeah! At last, I’m going to get a boyfriend.’

"Yes, Mom. The college counselor gave me the name of three sororities I could apply for membership.

(I wasn’t paying much attention when the counselor was talking, so the thought had flown by my pea brain at the one hundred-thousand-foot level.)

Not the big Greek ones, of course, my grades weren’t quite good enough. But the ones more involved in campus life might offer me some boyfriend opportunities. I thought it might be fun; I could also meet more girls my age.

‘Yes, what a jerk I had been. A Sorority, that’s the ticket!’

I didn’t care what I had to do at this point. One of those sororities was going to accept me. I made up my mind.

‘No matter what, -- I’m going to make them want me to join. Whatever their rules are, whatever they want me to do. Stand on my head. Drink a gallon of beer. Make a funny face. Hell, I can do any of those with no problem.’

How about getting a job? Dad chimed in. You might find something like working in the school library. Surely you might meet some other girls there. Perhaps you could find a boy who likes to study hard; he’ll probably make something of himself. If not, there are probably other jobs around the campus you could do, be more interested in activities. It would give you more spending money to have fun with.

I must have had this same conversation with my parents a thousand times.

Get a job, they said. Probably the only job I could get hired for was picking up trash around the campus. Ever since middle school they had noticed I didn’t mingle much with other kids, they constantly pushed me to do better.

That’s it! Finally, my big opportunity. One of these sororities is going to give me my freedom to have fun.’

‘I made up my mind. I was a BIG girl now. I could do anything I wanted. You wait. –You’ll see.’

‘NO MATTER WHAT I HAVE TO DO! I ‘M GOING TO DO IT!’

Yes, Mom, Dad. I’ll check with the library, see if they have any openings. Perhaps there’s something available like shelving books. It would get me wandering around the library aisles. Perhaps I could spot a boy there who might want to date me.

‘Really! Mom, Dad, I can do it on my own if I was interested.’

Later in the quiet of my room, my subconscious chimed in:

‘Moll, you know you’ve never put much effort into palling with other girls. ...and the part about drinking a gallon of beer? Don’t you remember what happened last year when you chugged down one of dad’s beers from of the fridge? You puked for over an hour. It was disgusting. Listen to your parents.’

Bug-off, I shouted back at her. I certainly didn’t need her advice. -—but she did have a point about the beer… YUCK!

‘This is it. My big chance in life. Nothing is going to spoil this for me.’

‘For the first time in a long time, I felt happy, content. I had a mission now; I was going to accomplish it, no matter what. Nothing would stand in my way.’

NOTHING!

Several months later --

A scene from after the Middle.

A bit later than the last,

but before the end.

Dr. Williamson leads her through some hypnosis sessions to erase memories of abuse from her mind which are causing constant nightmares.

CHAPTER 2

Sorority memories.

Molly, today I want to continue your memories of the sorority initiation, Dr. Williamson said as he soothed me into a trance.

*****

Yes, Owen. I remember. It was the very first time I….

"Molly – the Sorority, please focus."

You know Doc; sometimes you can be a real drag, I think I’ve told you before.

*****

Shortly before Sorority Rush Week, I studied up on the history of each of the three sororities until I could pretty much recite from memory their history as well as their official Mission Statement. The first two interviews went fairly well. I put on my best-looking dress; brushed my hair. I even shined my shoes, something I had never done.

‘Well, maybe not shined, exactly, but I did take a bath cloth and wiped some of the dust off. Doesn’t that count as a shoe-shine?’

I answered all of the questions the girls asked, tried to look very enthusiastic. I smiled, laughed at their jokes, shook all the right hands. However, even as I answered their questions, tried to look interested, even excited, I detected they had little interest in my bid. Sure enough -- the morning after each interview I received a message from each sorority my bid was not accepted.

I fell into a major funk. I dragged my sorry butt from class to class all week long.

‘Hopeless. I’m a hopeless jerk, what have I done wrong? What was wrong with me? This last sorority is my last chance. If I don’t make it into this one, I’m going to slit my wrist or jump out of my dorm window, or maybe I’ll get drunk, lay in the middle of the street, let a car run over me. Nobody would notice anyway; the street sweeper will simply push my body down the nearest street drain.’

This third sorority was strangely different. Their mission statement was odd; even the sorority name was a mystery. W.L.S. Sorority – I could find no reference to what the initials meant.

To have fun, to take advantage of all of the delights available on campus. To present ourselves free and available to interested student bodies.

I could find no particular information about exactly what they did around campus. When I asked girls, who were either a member or had attempted to become members, they refused to explain in detail exactly what the sorority did every day. Most just gave me a queer looking smile, as if it was something only BIG girls did, not idiots such as myself.

Several of the girls I asked had not become members but had attended their elimination night test. They had been passed over for membership; I had the highest hope of garnering information from them. But it was the oddest thing -- each and every one of them when asked to describe the ceremony blushed red in the face; they wouldn’t answer my questions.

No matter. I decided whatever it was; it must be very important, but why was why it was being kept secret? I wanted to belong to this group. One which no one outside of the sorority knew of its workings. It sounded exciting -- a secret society. Something I could share in but very few would know the truth.

NOTHING was going to prevent me this time.

I WOULD be accepted in this sorority no matter what they asked me to do or say.

‘Well, there were a few dirty words I was pretty sure I couldn’t get out of my lips. GAH! I hope they don’t want me to say those things.’

I paced back and forth in my dorm room for hours each of the next two days. I hardened my resolve, repeating it over and over to myself.

I WILL be accepted in this sorority no matter what they asked me to do or say.

I WILL be accepted in this sorority no matter what they asked me to do or say.

I WILL be accepted in this sorority no matter what they asked me to do or say.

‘And IF I REALLY HAD TO. I might even say the F… word. I heard other girls use it from time to time. --But maybe not. That’s just too much. Surely they won’t ask me to do something nasty like that.’

****

At last – it’s Friday afternoon, the last day of Pledge Week. There were only three hours to go before I was to report for the W.L.S. Sorority Final Pledge Exam. I was nervous, paced the floor in my dorm room back and forth, driving my roommate, Mindy, mad.

‘I’ve got to make this work. It’s my last chance.’ I kept repeating over and over:

‘No matter what they ask or want me to do, I’m going to do it. This test is my last chance. If I’m ever going to find a boyfriend, I’ve got to succeed. I can’t let anything stop me.’

From my research, I had learned there were nine other girls who were bidding for one of only four openings. The odds were not in my favor; I tried to think of something that would give me an advantage. Some trick I could do which might impress them. Nothing came to mind; it was hopeless. I don’t know any special magic tricks; I can’t do handstands, I don’t know any funny jokes.

‘— I am going to fail; I know it!’ I almost decided to abandon the idea.

‘What was the point? I would just embarrass myself again, show how stupid I was to a bunch of girls I didn’t even know.’

The afternoon was dragging by ever so slowly. I was taking a bath trying to relax my mind, due to the excessive sweat caused by my nervousness. I had already taken two showers, having sweated so much my top had gotten soaked through and through.

‘I have to make it into this sorority.’

While taking a bath I grabbed for a new razor to make sure I was super smooth around all my hairy spots, underarms, legs, especially my unmentionable, you know, the place way down there. When I took off the little clear cap, I accidentally dropped it into the soapy water.

Later, I felt something touch my leg, so I grabbed hold of it thinking it was the plastic cap. Instead, when I looked down, there was this huge spider, or at least it sure did look like it would weigh in at ten pounds. I screamed, jumped out of the tub, grabbed the toilet plunger, smashed and slapped at the spider over and over. Water flew everywhere, but the spider escaped through a small hole in the wall when one of my splashes caused it to fly out of the tub.

I guess it didn’t weigh ten pounds after all.

—Maybe it was only five pounds?

Alright -- I give up. -- It probably was only an ounce or so, but it sure did look like a mighty tarantula. Something out of a horror movie for sure.

When my nerves settled down after the terror of the violent spider attack, I checked my hair and clothes in the mirror for the hundredth time. My makeup looked perfect. The instructions for the dress code for the test were odd but specific:

T, short-shorts, no socks, tennys. Bra and panties - optional.

‘Bra and panties optional? What the hell was this about? What am I missing here?’

I searched through my drawer -- discovered I didn’t have any of my new shorts, evidently in my rush to get to the dorm I had forgotten to pack my new ones. I dug around deeper in my regular jean drawer, found an old pair of shorts I had worn in junior high school. I removed my panties, threw them in the dirty clothes. If this what they want, I’m going to do it. Thank God, I’m not on my period. I dug the shorts out of the drawer, tried to pull them up.

GOD! They must have shrunk. I pulled and pulled, finally I got them all the way up, but ow! They sure were tight!

Mindy laughed at my efforts. You’re not going to wear those shorts to the sorority test are you?

I walked around the room with only these god-awful, tight shorts. The rough fabric between my legs rubbed hard against my folds as I walked back and forth.

‘Ummmmmm!

They sure felt good between my legs for some reason. I felt sinful. I had never gone without panties since I was… come to think of it; I don’t think I’d ever even left my bathroom without panties before.

‘GAH!

I sure hope there aren’t any boys between here and the sorority dorm. Maybe I’ll wear a coat over this. …No, I can’t do it, I’d look rather foolish with a coat with short-shorts. It must be 95 degrees outside right now.’

‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’ I think the old saying goes.

I took off my T, removed my bra, tossed it on top of my panties. Slipping my T back on I suddenly realized my nipples were now showing through the thin fabric. I checked my drawers again trying to find a thicker tee, but all of them were the same.

‘Maybe I should wear two? Nah! I’d look stupid if I did that.’

GAH!

I felt like a stripper.

Then Mindy confirmed my worst suspicions.

"Moll, I can’t believe you’re going dressed like that, you look like a stripper. Your nipples are poking out, and I’m pretty sure I see a camel toe between your legs."

I flushed a beet red color. I turned and slunk over to the corner so she couldn’t see my shorts anymore.

‘What business was it of hers, anyway?’

The minutes ticked by slowly. It seemed like each second lasted at least thirty minutes.

Tick,

Tock,

Tick,

Tock.

God!

Finally, there was only one hour left. I paced back and forth. I looked out the window, watching the other students wandering the campus walkways, going about their usual rounds, returning to their dorms, or going out on dates.

‘God, why couldn’t I be her?’ I moaned as I watched a girl hanging onto a good-looking boy, his hand drifting casually over her butt.

Sigh!

Thirty minutes to go.

My palms were sweating. I grabbed a bath cloth, wet it in the sink, wiped the sweat from my forehead, hands and armpits. I squirted a second spray of perfume, desperately hoping to cover up the smell of fear I was sure I was emanating from every pore of my body.

Ten minutes. ‘I’d better get on my way now. Don’t want to be late.’

Wish me luck, I cried to Mindy, who was probably extremely happy to see me leave. I had pestered her over and over with the same question How do I look? for at least the past three hours. She was very frustrated with me.

"Well, if you’re going to audition for a spot at The Cowgirl Strip Club you’re going to fit in perfectly. I don’t think you should go dressed like that. But if it’s what you want, go right ahead. Don’t complain when you come back a loser again, and I get to say: "I told you so."

‘My spirits, which had risen as the time drew near, now sank back into a state of depression again. I knew I was going to fail again.

‘GAH! What’s a girl got to do to get a boy’s attention these days?’

I truly had no idea. I could now see my life stretching out in front of me in dull black and white. Girls would always point me out as the loser who they didn’t want to be around. Boys would laugh, tell rude jokes about me.

‘It’s all so depressing.’ I groaned.

I took the stairs down to the front door two at a time.

‘I think I’m going to be late,’ I moaned to myself. ‘All that waiting, now I screwed up and didn’t leave early enough.

‘I guess I’m already doomed to failure. What’s the point? They’re going to reject me anyway.’

I almost stopped and returned to my dorm room.

*****

"I believe you told me enough for today Molly," Owen’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

‘But Doc, I was about to get to the part where I made a fool of myself and started doing all the wrong things. You know the part where…’

You’ve told me a lot. I think you need some rest now. I’m going to count backward from ten. By the time I reach one, you will awaken and not remember any of these things you’ve told me. You will feel relaxed, refreshed. When you see your reflection in the stream today, you will realize what a beautiful, charming face you have. You have a simple beauty all women wish to have. Do you understand?

‘Owen’s voice in my ear was comforting. I love him. I wish he would tell me he loved me, too. But I knew it was impossible. Why would a handsome doctor like Owen give me a second look? Especially after the evil things I’ve done? I’m so ashamed of myself and all the stupid things that I did.’

Yes, Dr. Williamson. Count from ten backward. Then, will you hold me in your arms and kiss me?

Dr. Williamson made several notes on his pad, then turned to Molly.

Yes, Molly. Then we can lie here under the tree and watch the fish swim. I will kiss you if you wish.

‘Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, wake up, fresh and relaxed."

*****

Hello. Did I dream? I can’t remember. Did you find what you were looking for?

Yes. We found a starting point for when your problems started. How do you feel?

I feel relaxed and refreshed, as if I had a long sleep.

Buster stood up, wagged his tail happily. His mistress, now being awake, freed him to wander over and study the small fish in the nearby stream. He watched closely as the tiny fish swam back and forth. He lapped up some of the water with his tongue which caused some of the Koi to swim rapidly in the opposite direction from the huge monster staring down at them. He barked playfully and ran after them.

Oh, how pretty. Look at all of the Koi Buster is chasing in the Stinson’s stream. Aren’t they a joy to watch?

Yes. Why don’t you take your shoes off, dip your toes in the stream? I think you’ve earned a bit of fun today.

Molly giggled and relaxed, splashing the water with her feet. As she looked at her reflection in the water, she suddenly realized how very pretty she was. She hoped Owen would notice as well.

Buster returned to Molly’s side and lay at her feet.

*****

Dr. Williamson leaned against the tree, troubled by the memories of what Molly had revealed to him this day. Her external injuries were beginning to heal nicely, especially those on her buttocks and back. But the internal ones causing her constant nightmares were very troubling. He felt certain there was going to be a lot of rough and awful things ahead for her as he struggled to find ways to overcome her nightmares. He was not certain he was up to facing the truth which was coming.

Dr. Williamson cared deeply for Molly, more so than any other patient he had treated. He felt drawn to her emotionally and physically but had to suppress those desires. He knew Molly cared for him, but how could he return those feelings and not violate his oath as a doctor? The answer eluded him.

You are very pretty today Molly; your skin is so radiant in the sunlight. If I were a woman, I would be very jealous of how pretty you are.

Owen’s words meant as an encouragement to revive Molly’s broken spirit, but as he spoke them, he realized how deeply true he felt them. Molly was an exceptionally beautiful girl.

Lunch Time! Marianne called from the edge of the Oasis swimming pool.

We’re coming, Molly responded.

Come on, Dr. Williamson. I’m famished. Let’s hurry in before it all gets eaten up.

He made a note in his notepad, then turned and followed after her, troubled by his inability to separate his inner feelings from his professional duty with this vibrant, wonderful girl.

CHAPTER 3

Sorority memories continued.

Three days later, Dr. Williamson continues to explore Molly’s troubling memories.

****

Molly, yes that’s it. Think of that day; you left your friend Mindy in the dorm; you headed out to the sorority. Can you see yourself? What are you doing?

"Please, doctor. I’m so ashamed of myself and what I’ve done. Tell me that you can forgive me, tell me that there is some hope left for me. I know that if I tell you the truth you will run away from me. I was such a fool; I did things that I’m ashamed of now."

Molly, there is only one way that I know for you to wipe this past away. You need to focus on these memories; I will help you to forget them as if they never happened. Now, you were telling me about the Sorority Initiation before we were interrupted for lunch the other day. Please start again. I believe you were at the point where you were ready to leave your dorm and walk to the Sorority House.

Yes, Owen. Will you walk with me among the cherry trees after this? Would you like to hold my hand? Molly smiled as she dreamed.

Yes, Molly. I will hold your hand and walk among the cherry trees with you. Owen looked down at his patient; he was tempted to lean over and give her a kiss, -- tell her that all would be well, but held himself back at the last second.

He was just as afraid as she was of the things