“Yeah? What’s that?” she challenged.
“I prove them wrong.”
She rolled over halfway to face me in the dark. “Go away, Colin.”
I stared at her shadowed silhouette for a moment before forcing myself to leave the room, pulling the door closed behind me but not latching it. My room was directly across the hall, and I slipped inside, leaving it wide open. I slid my dark suit pants down and kicked them off, falling onto my bed in only my gray boxer briefs. I could hear Annie’s muffled cries from across the hall, and it killed me inside that I couldn’t help her, that I couldn’t trust myself.
When her sobs subsided, I was able to drift off into a nightmare-filled sleep, plagued by memories of a youth spent in hell. I was thankful Annie was able to block it out enough that she could project the appearance of functioning normally, but I knew it ate her up inside as much as it did me. I would gladly hold the weight of our troubled past if it meant she would have a normal future. Watching her slowly throw it away killed me inside.
I watched as Taylor’s hand came down hard across Marie’s cheek, and the sound of her grunt echoed in the large room as she fell to her side, catching herself on her hip and hands. Her strawberry-blond hair covered her tear-soaked face. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat as he looked over at me.
“Disobedience will not be tolerated.” I nodded and watched the girl, a few years older than me but half my size, lie helpless and sobbing on the floor. It was a scenario I’d seen play out dozens of times. It no longer fazed me. It was the way things were. Every story was different and the same. This girl was a runaway who prostituted herself out in order to score drugs. I didn’t know why Taylor even bothered bringing her in, but she fit the profile—blond hair and green eyes laced with flecks of gold—and he was becoming desperate to bring validity to his visions. The church was growing restless.
You either accepted the rules, or you were beaten into submission, and Taylor was very creative with his punishments. I carried the scars on my flesh to prove it.
“Pay close attention, boy.”
I nodded once and waited. He grabbed Marie’s arm and jerked her to her feet, giving her a second to regain her balance. I was sure that by morning her hip would be bruised, and simple acts such as walking would be difficult.
At fourteen I was now being taught the inner workings of the church in order to prepare me for the day I would take Taylor’s place. All encounters were videotaped for church records, something I never batted an eye at because it was just the way it was. To say my upbringing was unconventional was an understatement. The Descendants of God was a countrywide organization, and I was living at the epicenter and learning directly from our founder himself, Taylor Woodward.
He unfastened his belt as Marie wrapped her arms around her waist, sobs ripping from her chest.
“Don’t hit me.” Her pleading fell on deaf ears. I was no longer swayed by other people’s pain. My empathy had long evaporated with every scar I received. Bad things didn’t just happen to bad people. This was a fact.
He reached out and ran his thumb over her cheek to wipe away her tears. “Shh, I wasn’t going to hit you. Praying isn’t the only thing you will do on your knees around here.” Her gaze fell lower, and she watched as he undid his pants. I glanced at the red light on the camera that sat in the corner of the room atop a tripod and kept my expression unreadable, not wanting Taylor to see how much this still bothered me when he reviewed the tape. The only thing worse than the depraved acts I was forced to witness was having our leader deem me useless. I’d seen what happened to those who didn’t conform, and I wasn’t ready to meet my maker.
I awoke to my mattress being nudged. My eyes flew open, and I stared up at Annie’s messy hair, wild from from a night of restless sleep. She was wearing one of my white undershirts, and it fell to midthigh. Mascara was smudged under her eyes from a late night.
“What’s wrong?” I groaned as I blinked back the harsh sunlight that poured through my window. Annie’s blurry image slowly came into focus. She held out a bottle of water and two pills in the other hand. I grabbed my covers and pulled them up, suddenly realizing it was morning and I was only in my underwear. The evidence of my twisted, fucked-up past was painfully hard, and control was something I lacked when I needed release.
“Fuck, you could have knocked,” I snapped.
“You could close your door if you want me to knock.” She laughed as she set the bottle of water on my bare chest. The cold made me jump, and I sat up, my head thumping with the sudden movement. “Here.”