From Here to the Great Unknown

by Lisa Marie Presley

The first time Edwards came into my room in the middle of the night, drunk, kneeling, was years before. I think I was ten. I woke up to find him on his knees next to my bed, running his finger up my leg under the sheets, and if I moved, he stopped—so I moved. I was awake, but I was trying to be asleep. He said he was going to teach me what was going to happen when I get older. He was putting his hand on my chest and saying a man’s going to touch here, then he put his hand between my legs, and he said they’re going to touch you here. I think he gently kissed me and then left that night. I told my mom in the car the next day and I watched her slam her foot down on the gas. At home I ran to my room and she flew into her room and slammed the door. Eventually she called me in and said that Edwards wanted to apologize. Edwards was sitting on their bed looking very sullen and sulky. He said, “I’m so sorry, but in Europe that’s how they teach the kids, so that’s what I was doing.” I didn’t know what to say. I would always feel bad for him when he apologized. Eventually it became that he would touch me and spank me, telling me not to look—“Don’t look at me,” he’d say, “don’t turn your head.” I assume he was jerking off. He wouldn’t be mad at me—he did it very calmly, just sitting in a chair, whacking my ass. My butt would be black, blue, orange, green.