I am nineteen now, and the day I feared is coming closer. My parents decided it was time for my convent training. Every weekend they drive me to the small convent on the hill outside town. There I learn how to pray for hours, how to wear the simple white novice habit, how to stay silent and obedient. Signora Elena smiles proudly every time we go. “You will be a beautiful bride of Christ, Celine,” she says. Papa just nods and tells me to remember my promise.
We go to confession every single week. I kneel in the dark wooden booth and whisper to the old priest, “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” But I never tell the full truth. I never say how I still touch myself almost every night. I never say how much I miss Signora Francesca’s phone and the dirty videos that make me so wet.
I tried s
