My First Communion

They were on a mission. The only questions were why they wanted me and what was their plan. I was in some sort of training it seemed. An afternoon boot camp where my grandmother was some sort of general and Roger was a high commander. He made me call him father. They made a bunch of us kids gather at this old building with stone statues. They taught us of their leader; the one with all the power in the universe and whose son brought miracles to earth. Something was amiss. Aliens? Sorcerers? The Irish Mafia? Who knew? But they wanted me to be a part of it.

There was two more steps. Something called a "confession" and a ceremony. They said if I did it I would live forever with that almighty guy. Ha! Bribery. What my grandmother and Father Roger did not know was that my dad was a punk rocker. He taught me to fear bribery and stick it to the man. Anarchy was in my genes and thus, I needed to fight!

Father Roger brought me to his room. Well, well father. Here we are, left to our own devices. "Michelle, tell me of your sins." Oh no! He's on to me! Keep it cool. "No sins, Father." "You haven't been mean to your brother?" His powers are greater than I thought. He can read minds. "Well, I punched my brother and then cried and told my mom he hit me so he would get in trouble." Nice Diversion. "That should only require one hail Mary." Mary, they've taken down Mary. My Mom knocked on the door. "I'm here to pick her up." I'm saved from your treachery father! "I'll bring here to the church at six." Traitor!

Apparently my mom was in on it. She dressed me in an itchy, white dress and even a veil. I did not realize their plan was so low. They were going to marry me off into a cult at the age of seven. I could no longer trust anyone.

They dragged me to the creepy building of statues and forced me down the isle. They made me stand in front of Father Roger and all these wrinkly people. Father Roger started speaking in another language which confirmed my cult suspicions. Before I knew it he had forced something into my mouth. "The body of Christ." What?! Cannibals! I spit out the body showing my tongue to everyone. That's right! I rudely disapprove. But it was not over. Father Roger proceeded to hand me one of two goblets. This one smelt of grape juice. Poison. You'd have to do better than that Father. I know the other glass has something better in it because you wont give it to me. I grabbed the other goblet and drank every last drop. and...no wait...not feeling well....little woozy. They tricked me. This was the glass with the poison. All of the sudden my guts came out of my mouth. Touche Father, Touche!