by Liza James
"Yes," I reply, keeping my voice quiet and my eyes focused ahead of me.
"The Nation is under a scrutinized eye right now. But I'm working with several members to rebuild what we once had. It will take time though, as I'm sure you understand." He speaks with a certain respect and confidence I've grown familiar with. He's always talking about the Nation, the belief system—my ascension.
"Your terms have changed, sweet Sunflower. Is that clear?" He whispers, leaning forward as he pushes me through another narrow hallway. I vaguely wonder how he has this layout memorized in the darkness.
He's told me this before, again and again. Reminding me that what my family had once agreed to regarding my own life outside of the Nation has changed. But I've been so detached I can't remember the details. "I thought I was already promised my ascension." I reply, wishing I could find some sort of loop hole in order to escape this.
"Your sister's sacrifice will never be forgotten. But conditions have changed within the commune since Aura abandoned her position. We've had to adjust, and correct paths. As the Prophet, I've seen what lies ahead of us after ascension. I've seen the glory and promises awarded to us once we arrive in the Garden." He reaches ahead of me and pulls open a door, revealing the outside air and moonlight. Pushing me through, my eyes fall to the small black civic parked ahead of us, a vehicle I've become far too familiar with since Dom moved into my apartment. "You want to be free, right Sunflower? You want the glory and beauty lying ahead of you?"
"Yes," I respond, feeling my mind slip into this place of comfort and relief. I know he won't hurt me if I willingly give him what he wants.
"Then you must cleanse your spirit and give yourself unto The Nation. Your sister's sacrifice is no longer eligible for you and your family. The Nation needs everyone we can get, and that requires calling every single member into service—including you." He opens the passenger door and pushes me inside without waiting for my response.
I would have said yes anyway.
I'm not naive enough to believe there is some way out of this for me.
No music. No friendships. No freedom.
And now? That's all I want, to be free of this. So, if I play by his rules, if I give him what he wants. Then maybe I can at least find a new definition of freedom that works for me.
Maybe, I won't have to cleanse my spirit forever.
He leans over me, his chest intentionally brushing against mine as he buckles me in. His fingers drag over my thighs as he pulls back, touching my skin and sending goosebumps burning along my flesh.
Just before he's free of the car, he turns his face toward mine and presses his lips against my own. His tongue pushes inside of my mouth, his fingers lifting and biting into my jaw so I can't move.
I wouldn't have anyway. I'm far too high to fight this now.
I lean back, letting go a bit farther as he takes from me, pulling from my spirit and replacing pieces with his own. He tastes me, his tongue moving against mine while I sit in this seat and remain still.
I never fight anymore. Does that make me weak? I vaguely wonder, my mind still spiraling with the thick heavy fog from all the pills I've taken today.
I'm afraid, and I can feel the tears slip through my lashes uncontrollably as Dom pulls back and meets my gaze.
"You look lonely," he whispers, his thumb lifting and brushing along my cheek as he wipes the trail away. "I can fix that. Give yourself to your Prophet and the Omega will bless you my Sunflower."
"I have given myself to you. Time and time again, what else do you need?" I reply with a trembling voice. My shoulders now shaking slightly as I watch him. I swear, I see sympathy in his eyes but I can hardly believe it. How can he be this cruel? This sadistic and still care?
"I need you to devote yourself to The Nation. To your personal path of ascension. Can you give The Nation what we need?" He asks, his dark eyes moving back and forth as he watches me.
My head spins, and everything feels even more crowded in this tight space. I can't help it, I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away from him while everything inside of me begs to be free of this.
Suddenly, his hand is wrapped tightly around my jaw and he's digging his fingers into my skin in a way I know will leave bruises. "Look at me," he demands, his voice is low and rough as it quickly shifts into a darker tone. "Look at me now, Calypso."
I don't move, I refuse and instead focus on the pain along my skin. I use it as a distraction, wishing I'll suddenly wake from this nightmare and realize none of it is actually happening.
Where is K? The thought flashes through my mind and then she's there in my head. Filling my vision with her eyes and lips and long blonde hair.
Smack. Dom's free hand collides with my cheek before holding me still again. "Look at me." Another smack, and a whimper uncontrollably escapes my lips before I finally pry my own eyes open.
She's gone. Now replaced with the vile gaze of my own personal monster.
"Tell me you are willing to give yourself to The Nation, to help rebuild this community and climb your own ladder of ascension."
"I'm willing." I force the words free and they feel lazy on my tongue. Heavy, slurred and sour.
I hate them. I hate this. I hate myself.
"Then you must prepare your vessel, Sunflower. Continuous cleanses, a renewed spirit, prayer and dedication to our beliefs. There are tasks coming you must participate in to bring our commune back together. Do you understand me?" He asks, and I just want to be done now. I don't want to have this conversation again. I know there's no way out of this for me.
"Yes, I understand," I reply, forcing my eyes to stay trained on Dom's. A sick smile pulls at his lips and the lines around his gaze crinkle as joy floods his features.
"Good. Good. You are blessed, sweet one. The Omega sees your devotion and blesses you." He pulls out of the car and just before he shuts the door, he speaks once more. "We must raise money for the cause, Calypso. You'll start your training tomorrow, along with your work at the club."
Training. For what?
But I don't bother asking. I don't want to know. I just want let go.
Dom walks to the other side of the vehicle, opening the driver door and climbing inside before turning the car on. "We have a meeting we must attend. You'll stay in the car. It will only be a few minutes."
"Yes," I say, letting my eyes fall shut while I surrender to the quiet I know will soon fall between us. I want the silence.
"Yes, what?" He urges, and my heart rate spikes at the demand. I know what he wants me to say and every time, it makes my stomach roll in nausea when I speak it.
"Yes, Prophet."
"Good girl," he replies as he pulls out of the gravel space behind the warehouse and onto the street. He doesn't speak again, and I relish this space where I can let my mind fall into a different place.
K's face comes to mind again.
I don't know why, but I find comfort in it. This illusion that she's somehow near me right now. Because even K is better company than Dom and I don't have many friends outside of the club.
My head swims with different visions. This narrative where K and I have something different. Right this moment, it's easy to forget the reasons I hate her, easy to let go of what she's taken from me because all of it seems minuscule to what I'm experiencing with Dom.
Nothing has ever been as horrid as this. No one has ever taken from me in the ways Dom does.
My body, my soul, even my mind. He claims little pieces, every single day as he works to pull back into the Nation.
And the worst part?
I think it's working.
More tears slip down my face while I sit here, hot streams staining my cheeks while the tense silence grows.
Every night, when he climbs on my bed and hovers over me, while he forces his way inside of me, he whispers the words of the Omega. He speaks in the language gifted to him by our God.
The rungs, the ladder, ultimate ascension into the Garden. It's breathed into me while he
takes, speaking into my soul while he rapes me.
I'm terrified to admit that I'm losing more of myself while he intoxicates me with these beliefs. I never would have thought I would so easily concede mentally to what he's pushing, but with every traumatic experience, I find it easier to submit in my spirit.
It's hard to fight back when you’re physically reprimanded, when you know he’ll force his way inside of you—both your body and your mind.
Am I weak for giving into this?
I don't think I care anymore.
So, now? While K's vision gives any sort of escape from my reality? I cling to it. Diving into this narrative where maybe she's felt something for me all along. I ignore our past and focus on these stolen moments of hidden touches. Where her lips brush against my own and my fingers trail gentle lines over her skin.
All of it feels different.
And fuck, I need it. I crave it. Anything outside of what I'm dealing with now.
In my mind, my hands lift to drag my thumb over her lower lip, watching her eyes as they focus on my movements. She breathes out, and everything feels so incredibly real that I almost feel it on my actual skin.
"What are you thinking about?" Dom suddenly interrupts me, and that's when I realize I'm breathing heavily in the seat beside him. My fingers are tightly clinging to edge of the bright pink skirt I put on before Dom dragged me to the warehouse.
I release my hold, force steadier breaths as my personal illusion shatters in my mind.
"Nothing," I reply quietly, forcing my eyes straight ahead so I don't have to look at him.
"Do not lie to your Prophet. You will be punished, Sunflower." His words aren't cruel, but passionate. And yet that scares me even more, because I know how genuine he's being.
He really will punish me.
"The girl, from earlier?" He asks, but I remain quiet, unsure of how to respond. I know what the Nation does to people who live this kind of lifestyle. I don't know exactly what happened to Aura, but I doubt she's seen what I have. Ruby makes it seem like they've never had problems with—
"Answer me, now." This time, he shouts, yelling in the small space and yanking me to attention.
"No." I say quickly, but my lip trembles in both fear and the clear lie on my tongue.
His eyes dart toward mine and I swear he can tell, he already knows I'm lying.
He's silent for a moment before looking back to the road as we pull off toward a set of docks leading to the Hudson river. "She is nothing," he finally says, his tone is sure and strong. He parks the car so we're overlooking the choppy river ahead of us.
Darkness, overpowering waves, a current I can only imagine would drag me deeper underneath the heavy suffocation I seem to be drawn to now.
"Stay here." Dom opens the door and steps out of the vehicle. I can hear the wind blowing outside as it scatters across my frame before he shuts me inside.
I watch him, looking to see who he's meeting as he walks several yards away from the car. It's absolutely empty here. No cars, no people, nothing. Only a few dumpsters and a gravel plot.
The docks are strewn with old shipping containers and that's when I see Dom turn and walk toward a few. A couple of men emerge from behind the containers, but they're dressed in hoodies that are pulled over their heads, their hands in their pockets.
I can't even begin to make out who they are or what they look like. As soon as Dom reaches them, he shakes their hands. He's larger than both of them, and with a sad understanding I know they could never take him if they wanted too.
Dom is a monster all on his own. He holds a power I've never felt from anyone else, and in a way, it makes me wonder if all of this he speaks of is real.
Ascension. The ladder. The Garden.
Am I the one who's wrong in this?
I laugh, out loud, by myself when my eyes fall to my trembling hands. I can't control it, I just keep laughing at the idea that maybe this is all truth. Whatever Aura ran away from? Maybe she's the one who was wrong. Maybe Ruby doesn't even realize the weight and importance The Nation truly holds.
Shit, who am I? What am I doing? Do I need this? This spiritual cleanse?
My laughs turn to cries and tears spill down my face once again. I'm practically choking on my own tears, on the surge of terrifying fear bursting through my chest.
I'm spiraling, and now I'm begging to take a few more pills. I want to lose myself, I want to be so gone that I don't even care what Dom is doing to me or indoctrinating me with.
I look back up and find Dom already walking back to the vehicle. Those two men are gone, and just as Dom opens the door to climb back inside, I intentionally turn away.
I won't ask questions. He doesn't appreciate that. He won't find me respectful enough.
He pulls out of the gravel drive and back onto the road. I assume he's taking us to my apartment—he knows how to get there. One of his hands remains in the pocket of his jacket, and I can tell that his fingers are sliding back and forth over something.
I can hear it, I can see the movement. I vaguely wonder what it is he got from those men but I dare not ask.
The drive remains silent. Once we pull into my designated parking spot at my apartment complex, I know to stay seated until Dom comes to my side of the car. This is how it always is now.
Weeks of me submitting to his routine, his dominance.
I was always the one in control before this. Ironic. Now all of my control has been stripped away from me.
He pulls open my door and leans over to unbuckle me. His usual touches are there—his chest, his hands, his lips now pressing against my forehead. He takes my hand in his and helps me out of the seat. Turning around, he tugs me behind him and we walk into my quiet complex through the back stairwell.
I won't lie, I live in a rougher part of town. So most of the people here hardly notice us, and if they do, they keep their distance from Dom due to his uncomfortable size and intangible authority.
I keep my eyes down, my head losing the heaviness I actually want in this moment from my high. I'm slowly coming back to, and with my own sobriety comes the weighted pain and anxiety ridden thoughts that plague me.
Once we're inside my apartment, he locks the door behind us and I instinctually move toward the bathroom in order to gain some privacy and space. I want distance, but I know I can never truly have it. This is as good as it's going to get now.
I quickly shut the door behind me, even though I can hear Dom taking slow and intentional steps after me. I lock it, twisting as quietly as possible in order to avoid irritating him.
Turning around, I look in the mirror over my sink. It's cracked and stained with water marks. The chipped blue paint of my bathroom reflecting behind me. I look to my right and stare at the small square window inside of my shower.
Could I fit through that?
I think I could, but the fear rooted in my gut and the constant crave of addiction keeps me paralyzed in place.
If I just move, step toward that window and quietly break through, I may be able to escape.
I just need to move. Move, Calypso. Go.
I look back at the mirror, my eyes staring into the depths of someone I don't recognize. My stomach twists in revulsion but my blood screams for more pills. More of anything.
To forget. To remember. To live. To die.
If I stay here in this sober state of mind, I feel everything I've been trying to avoid. I think about K, of our past. I remember the reasons I hate her, and then I cling to the ways she's woven back inside of me and now need her.
Leaning forward, I turn on the cold water and splash my face. I force deep breaths inside of my lungs, squeezing my eyes tightly shut while I mutter quiet reminders to myself.
"You are strong. You can do this. You are Calypso. You love music. You love playing the guitar. You love people. You're happy. You're so happy."
If I say them often enough, I'll start to believe them, right?
I turn on my heels, forcibly ignoring the loomi
ng bathroom window and unlock the door before pulling it open.
Dom stands on the other side, his shoulder leaning against the doorjamb when my stomach plummets and my heart rate jumps. I gasp and stumble back, just as he steps forward and crowds me in the small bathroom.
"Dom," I stutter, holding up my hands in hopes he stays away from me. "Can I have five minutes? Please? Before we start cleansing." I know what's coming. It's already late and I haven't been cleansed yet today.
"I have something for you," he says quietly. His lips pull up on the sides, a gentle smile revealing his perfectly white and straight teeth.
God, he looks so fucking normal. Attractive, even.
"I told you, the Omega has blessed you for devoting yourself to your ascension and The Nation." His hand slips into the pocket he was fidgeting with in the car before slowly pulling out the small ziplock baggie he had hidden there.
I glance down, my mind now completely zoned in one what he's offering me.
This isn't Adderall though. It's not a joint, or weed, or a bottle of alcohol.
This is something else.
Part of me whispers in my mind, telling me to refuse this. Whatever it is. That maybe this is a line I shouldn't be crossing.
"What about the Adderall? Can't I have more of that?" I ask, forcing my eyes away from temptation and back to his gaze.
His smile falters, and he takes one small, imposing step closer to my body. His chest brushes against my own, and I stumble until the back of my legs hit the edge of my bathtub. My hand flies out to the side so I can balance myself on the wall, but Dom is even quicker, and I'm held in place by the hand he suddenly grips my shoulder with.
His thumb presses into my skin, rubbing back and forth slowly until it digs into the place directly above my collarbone. I wince and a quiet cry slips of my lips before he pulls back incrementally.
"Are you not thankful, Sunflower? For what the Omega and your Prophet have provided?" He asks, dipping his head low so my vision is consumed with him.
"I am thankful," I quickly say. "So thankful. I was just hoping I could take the Adderall this time, maybe smoke a little? And try that the next time." My eyes drop to the baggie once more. Little colorful pills fill the small bag.
