The 20th Anniversary Of My Shaming

As as a rising senior, I lay naked on the carpet at my grandmother's house where I had gone to water her plants while she was on vacation. The house was silent, no noise, no one else there. Just me, naked, with my shame.

I waited for nightfall before moving. I weighed in my mind during those hours about not washing away the evidence, admitting to strangers I had been shamed. I concluded that it was no one's business but mine, one day I would have to tell my 'husband' a man walked there before he did.

I showered deliberately, squeezing an empty bottle of shampoo to wash out any foreign matter from my vagina. I made a mental note of the date, and counted back the days to my last period. I resigned myself to the likelihood, but only time would tell.

I dressed, and returned home, telling my parents I had been to the movies.