Innocent No More | Celeste Johnson

The afternoon was getting late; Sheila was doing the dishes. Celeste was two-and-a-half years old and was outside playing with her little friend. This was the 1970's: bad things just didn't happen.

Sheila decided to peek her head out the door to check on Celeste. She didn't see her or the little friend. Frustrated with Celeste's disobedient and stubborn little self, she called out her name, "Celeste! Where are you? Celeste?!"

A few moments later, Celeste wandered out from behind one of the apartment buildings they lived in. Relieved to see she hadn't wandered off too far, Sheila beckoned for her to get her fanny back in the house.

Celeste climbed up the stairs to her home. When she got inside, Sheila noticed that Celeste had peed her pants. The waist was twisted to where the zipper area was almost to her side. Sheila's frustration grew.

"Take off your pants so you can get cleaned up!" Sheila scolded her.

Celeste had been potty trained for some time and Sheila couldn't believe that she would pee her pants: She was going to teach Celeste a lesson. Taking off a pair of wet denim pants is difficult. Sheila knew this.

As Celeste struggled to take off her soaked pants, Sheila got back to the dishes. She glanced over at Celeste and saw her sitting on the floor trying to peel the pants off herself. Sheila gasped to herself. Something wasn't right. Part of Celeste looked different; a difference that made Sheila's heart sink.

Sheila gently implored, "Celeste, what were you doing."

"They were sticking things in me," answered Celeste.

Sheila started freaking out. "What? What do you mean sticking things in you?" Sheila asked, yet scared to know the answer.

"He had a snake in his pants and he was trying to put it in mine." innocently explained Celeste, as if it made the most perfect sense in the world.

Almost collapsing, Sheila grabbed the phone and called Larry, her husband, at work. Sheila scooped up Celeste and took her to the ER and Larry met them there.

A doctor entered the room to examine Celeste. Sheila stayed by Celeste's side and Larry sat in the hospital hall; he couldn't bear to be in there.

The doctor told Celeste that it was important for him to check her. She peered up at him, uncertain.

Celeste told him, "If you don't hurt me, I won't scream."

It took several nurses to hold Celeste down so they could get a good look and take some swabs to do testing. Celeste screamed and cried. Her screams carried out into the hospital halls and waiting rooms. Larry could hear his little girl in pain and fear. He kept sobbing and asking, "Why?" to no one in particular.

The tests came back swiftly. There wasn't complete penetration. Celeste didn't have major tearing or rips. Sheila's calls to her daughter earlier that day when she couldn't find her, the doctors said was probably what saved her daughter from the twisted individual before it went from bad to worse. They suggested she call the police. There was obviously someone nearby whose sick intent was targeting little kids.

Hugging their sweet girl, they carried her to the car and went home to call the police. The police showed up and investigated all the tenants. No one saw anyone out of the ordinary that day. When they asked Celeste's little friend that she was playing with earlier, she looked up at her dad, with a fearful expression, looked at the police and shook her head no.

The police had no leads and Sheila and Larry never found out the pervert who violated their daughter. However, they always suspected the little girl's father. There was no proof, but always had an unsettling feeling around him. Celeste never pointed out who the person was. She was too scared too.

As Celeste grew up, her memory of this faded until all that she could remember was what his face looked like. Even though Celeste couldn't remember anything else, she still talked about it with her mom, who spoke about it freely - to protect her daughter from any other molestations or rape.

The years went on and one day (when Celeste was a teenager) she was telling her mom about this face that kept haunting her mind. She couldn't remember who he was or why his face scared her. She described the details of the man's face and her mom looked at her dumbfounded: Celeste described the face of her little friend's father.