“I just wanted to say that,” I breathe and pull away. “I’ll let you finish working.”
I start to drift from him when he slides his hand down my arm and snags me back by my hand at the very last second. This time he kisses me. He doesn’t say shit, he just kisses me and watches me walk away with a twinkle in his eyes that mirrors my own.
Matthew, who waited in the lobby of the service station sees me mount my bike and joins me. He’s chewing something in his mouth. I don’t ask what it is as we pull away, but I wish I had.
I really wish I had. Not that he’d have given me any kind of real answer.
It’s as we’re driving down the long and dusty dirt road that he starts to have a seizure. It’s when his weight brings down mine that we crash into the back of a parked truck and tumble into a dry ditch.
I hurt, my body aches, but I’m okay.
I’m okay, that is, until I see the rolling eyes of my brother and foam coming from his mouth.
I scream, long and loud, a hoarse, panicked cry tearing through my throat as I crawl towards him.
“HELP!” I shriek, fumbling for my phone with trembling hands. “SOMEBODY HELP ME!”
26 years old
“That day with my brother was the scariest day of my life… or so I thought,” I whisper, wiping away tears. “I mean, shit just couldn’t get worse.”
“Why didn’t he care that you didn’t come back?” Kane asks. “He didn’t say a thing.”
“Right?” I sniff and wipe my nose on a piece of tissue, then I toss it and wash my hands while listening to the hum of the coffee machine. “I wouldn’t have left him there.”
I try to pour his coffee but my hand shakes so violently I have to put the jug down. Kane steps behind me and wraps an arm around my waist.
“I hated you,” I whisper. “I still do.”
“Why?” he asks, sounding bitter and hurt. “I tried.”
“I know that now but then, you were on this superhero pedestal. I was just waiting and waiting for you to save the day.” I let my head drop forward. “Every single day my stomach got bigger and bigger and I just kept praying and praying that you’d bust your way in and take me away on your bike and we’d all live happily ever after.”
He holds me tighter and presses his forehead against the back of my hair. “I tried. I didn’t stop trying. Your mee-maw got an injunction out on me. They said you didn’t want to see me. Said you hated me. I didn’t believe it, I knew you wouldn’t have left on your own but after a while they all started to convince me it was true.” His voice cracks and he slowly turns me in his arms. “Eventually I believed I wasn’t good enough and you and Marshall were living happily ever after.” His fist comes down on the counter behind me. “I never should have stopped.”
“I don’t blame you. I mean, I did, and part of me is still resentful of the life we could have had but never got.” I clear my throat and calm myself. “But I know deep down that you never would have known where I was and even if you figured it out there was no way of saving me.”
“Where were you?”
“Do you remember Mee-maw’s friend, that Jesus lovin’ weirdo that you used to make fun of?”
He thinks on it for a moment. “That fucked up cult lovin’ freak? The righteous somethin’ right?”
“The Righteous Voices.”
His eyes glaze over with memory and horror. “They took you?”
“They ran a fucking concentration camp for troubled kids and teens. Full of kids thought to be gay, kids on drugs, pregnant girls.” I shudder at the memory. “After the accident, turns out I didn’t give the test enough time and I was reading the wrong window on it. I was pregnant. They tested my blood for narcotics to see if I was high while driving. That came back clear but they found protein or something and that’s when I found out I was pregnant.”
“Fuck, Immy.”
“Yeah. My mee-maw had me and my brother shipped off the same night. I remember everything Father Righteous said to her… I could hear him through the wall, she was talking about how she’s a terrible parent and how could God forgive her and he was all…” I make my voice deep and put on his accent, an accent I’ll never forget. “God gave them to you, Mrs. Hardy, because he knew you would have the strength to send them to us for correction. Their behavior is not a reflection on your parenting, it is because they were born to an unwed mother and her poison is in their veins, tempting the devil to taste their flesh and souls.” I laugh harshly. “He was clinically insane.”
“Sounds it.”
“Mee-maw was so grateful and he was all thank the Lord for putting you in my path.” I grit my teeth. “He was a rapist, he was an abuser. The stuff he did… to them…”
“To Marshall?”
I nod and my lower lip trembles. “He had to be stopped.”
“What happened?” His eyes become cautious and guarded.
“What had to happen.”
18 years old
I started getting contractions last night, I’ve been trying to hide them but they’re too intense now. I’m terrified of what’s going to happen to me and my baby if I have her here. Not a single girl who was pregnant and has come back since having their baby, has come back with their baby.
A girl I know called Clary had hers last week. She hasn’t spoken since. She’s just laid on her bed crying and crying. She’s a shell of the person she was. Not that she was much of a person to begin with. This place has us all brainwashed. Even me in some ways, I’m losing the person I was. I feel myself spiraling deeper into a depression that’s getting harder to climb out of.
Everybody is in love with Jesus Christ. Everybody believes they did wrong and have to get the Lord to forgive them. But they believe that first they must gain the favor of Father Righteous. That’s what he makes us call him. And they will try to gain his favor in any way possible.
He thinks he’s superior and everybody eats up his shit like it doesn’t stink. My brother too who was released from here a few months ago, who I thought for sure would save me, left with a new outlook on life. He wouldn’t talk to me in the end because those who don’t bow to Father Righteous, are to be treated like the plague.
Marshall and I are in that category. Despite the fact we’re the eldest here, we are treated like lepers and we aren’t allowed to speak to each other.
That’s why I’m sneaking into his room now, hiding from the Saviors, which is just a fancy name for guards. They prowl the land like they own it. Watching our every move.
“Marsh!” I hiss urgently, pushing open the door. “Marshall please.”
He stirs in his bed, which is all he has in this room. A white bed, in a white box, by a white set of drawers that hold our white clothing. “Immy? You’re gonna get me caned.”
“The baby’s coming,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face. “They’re gonna take her.”
He sits bolt upright, a frown marring his features. “What?”
“She’s coming,” I groan, gritting my teeth and bending over as blinding pain clenches my uterus, trying to force this baby out of my body. “We need to go. We need to get out of here.”
“While you’re like this?”
“Please,” I beg as he comes to my side. “They’ll take her. I’ll die. I won’t survive this.”
“You’ve held on to yourself for this long, Immy.”
“No I haven’t. I’m losing my mind.” I grip his arm and groan. “Help me.”
“I don’t know how,” he admits sadly.
This isn’t the first time we’ve spoken about escaping. But every other kid who has tried has been brought back by the police and then beaten. The methods they use to get into your head is insane. They use electric shock therapy, intense exercise, isolation, basically low-grade torture techniques that fuck with your head. I’ve never been made to do the harder stuff because of my pregnancy.
I think back to my first nights here, the desperation I felt. The screaming I did. The kicking and fighting. They
had to sedate me so often. I wouldn’t rest without a fight and at first my brother was the same, but then withdrawal kicked in and they managed to take over.
The door bursts open and Marshall is forced to let me go.
I try to run, I try to get away but I can’t. I feel the prick at my neck and my body becomes weightless. Just as they always do. They drug you and make you lucid and calm. But you’re not really calm it’s just your body that won’t work.
I’ve tried staying calm for months because I’m terrified of what the drugs are doing to the innocent life inside of me. It’s all about my baby now and not me. I can handle whatever they throw my way but she can’t. She is only as strong as my blood and flesh that feed and protect her.
“Her water just broke,” Savior Sally, who likely fucking dosed me says and I vaguely feel the wetness between my thighs.
“GET OFF HER!” Marshall roars as I’m lifted.
This is it.
Nothing has prepared me for this moment. Nothing.
“Meconium in the waters,” is uttered by somebody. I don’t know what that means. “Baby is in distress.”
I definitely know what that means. Is she okay? Did I hurt her by holding on for so long? Is this God’s way of punishing me for not telling them I was in labor?
Even though I knew it was coming I expected it to be different. I didn’t expect them to keep me sedated. I didn’t expect to only get to hear the sound of her cry. I didn’t expect to miss out on the entire fucking birth of my daughter.
They literally ripped her from my womb and sewed me back up. They didn’t even let me hold her or see her or say goodbye. What kind of monster doesn’t even let a mother say goodbye?
They said it’s less painful this way. They’re wrong. I’d rather have the pain of her face and her tiny fingers in my memory forever than not know a thing about her at all.
I always knew I’d return to my room hollow and empty, both my body and heart, but I thought I’d have at least gotten to see her face. They didn’t even tell me if she was a boy or a girl.
I don’t know anything about her.
The only memory I have is the sound of her cry.
I can’t move. I’m in so much pain.
Pain they say is a gift from God, like the gift of my daughter to a family who will love and cherish her and raise her as their own.
They didn’t even let me say goodbye.
They have won. They have broken me.
My stomach aches with the loss of her kicks and rolls. I’d lie in bed every night and talk to her for hours on end. Sometimes out loud. Sometimes in my head. Apart from my brief run ins with Marshall, those moments at night with her were my only saving grace. How will I survive this now?
Mee-maw comes to visit a few days later. I haven’t moved. I haven’t eaten. They will force feed me soon, they’ve done it before when I staged a silent protest at being here. I probably shouldn’t have starved my body but it was the only power I had left. I thought they’d send me home but the more I acted out, the tighter a lock and key they put on me.
At most I get up to pee but I’m in a lot of pain, yet they still force me to get up and join them in the gardens where families come to visit their victims. The pain is unbearable, but it’s still not enough pain to stop me from punching the old cow in the face. I’ve never been violent with her. I’ve never raised a hand back. But I fly at her so fast and with such fury the look of fear in her eyes before I connect is the most satisfying moment of my entire life.
It’s her fault my baby is gone. It’s her fault I’m trapped here.
My rage overcomes my pain and senses and I don’t stop. I’ve never felt so strong despite being so weak.
“Oh my,” Mee-maw cries, acting the victim. Her hand rests on her chest and fresh tears roll down her face. Her cheek is swelling, I hit her hard.
“As you can see, she still needs work,” Father Righteous insists as I’m dragged away. “Sedate her. Feed her.” He apologizes to those around us and calls me troubled.
He’s too influential. As I scream that they took my baby he tells them I’m not fit to be a mother. That I’m a raging psychopath and he’ll be sure to keep their kids safe from me. That I’m possessed. They lap it up but they know that I’m not. They are the psychopaths. They know what goes on here, they know what they’re putting their kids through for the sake of “social standing”.
I’m a psychopath. I’m not possessed. I’ve lost my child and I’m steadily losing my will to live.
I stopped praying for Kane to save me so long ago, but still in this moment a flicker of hope presses on my already tight chest. My eyes, as they often used to, scan the grounds for any sign of him. My ears listen for the roar of his Challenger. My skin prickles desperately for the feel of his touch.
My heart yearns for our child.
There’s no emptier feeling than defeat. It’s as though any strength I had left is gone.
“She will see reason,” Father Righteous says, likely to Mee-maw.
“She’s been here almost nine months. The devil inside her is too strong.” Mee-maw is speaking like I’m not here.
“The devil is never too strong for God. And where else has a deeper presence of God than here at the Righteous Voices?” A loud chorus of Amen sounds from the crowd around as I start to drop and finally sink into slumber. The drugs take over and I decide that from now on I will keep on lashing out just so they can keep sedating me.
Nobody is going to save me now so I might as well get high. I have no power here. No standing.
Father Righteous is a trusted member of every community in the state. His compassion and love and his ability to turn a child back to the light of God is revered. He has the ability to destroy lives. He’s already destroyed mine.
26 years old
“I was back to where I was that night of the lake, but even worse than before because I had nobody. I was the leper of the group. Marshall was playing it safe, pretending to be saved so he could leave and send help for me. His parents were already desperate for his return so we knew it wouldn’t be long, but I couldn’t stand the thought of that hell without him.”
“Jesus, Immy I feel fuckin’ sick,” Kane admits and he looks pale as he strides across the room and puts distance between us. “I don’t want to believe you. I can’t grasp that this might be fuckin’ real.” He turns, his eyes sharp. “You didn’t kill yourself. I’m glad but… why?”
“I wanted to. I’ve never felt so done with life. I would have given anything to just fall asleep and not wake up but I couldn’t. I needed to know she was safe and loved and I just needed to see her one time.”
“Did you?”
I wet my lips and hold my mug. I’m sitting now, on a barstool, looking at him through dead eyes. “Nope.”
His brows furrow. “Not once?”
“I’m still alive aren’t I?”
“You’re gonna fuckin’ stay alive.”
I don’t reply, I just stare at him. Waiting for something, I don’t know what, but I know I don’t want to be in this moment. “I’ve never stopped thinking about her, Kane. Her cry echoes through my mind every time I close my eyes. I shouldn’t have even heard it really, I was under, but it called to me so deep it woke me up for just long enough for me to hear it.”
“Then we’ll go back there, we’ll demand he tell us—”
“He’s dead, Kane,” I breathe, choking on my words. “He’s dead. And he’s the only person who knew where she was.”
“He’s dead?”
“Yeah. Dead. Somebody stabbed him, severed his spine, watched him bleed out.”
He gapes at me, hearing the tone in my voice that I’m not even trying to hide. “Immy…”
“I don’t regret it,” I admit, my voice even softer now.
“Fuck… Immy.” His eyes widen. He’s concerned, horrified, just as I knew he would be. “Does Marshall know?”
I nod. “Marshall helped me set the place on fire.”
; He rips a hand through his hair. “I don’t know whether to believe you or not. I feel like you’re not being truthful.”
In some ways he’s right, but not all.
“Google it. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. The press had a field day when they learned of the horrors of the Righteous Voices and their fucking cult. So many victims came forward.” I laugh and shake my head. “So many. All it took was for me to stand up and tell mine first. Under an alias though to keep me safe. He had more followers than enemies.”
“They never caught you? They don’t know you killed him?”
I shake my head again. “They know. I confessed, but it was considered self-defense.”
“Self-defense.” He bites out the whispered words like he’s preparing himself for the answer.
“He didn’t touch me while I was pregnant. He had that much respect at least.” I close my eyes, to block out the image maybe, it doesn’t work. It’s even more prominent than before. “I wasn’t pregnant anymore. And you know how hot I was. He’d wanted me the moment he stepped into Mee-maw’s kitchen and saw me sitting on the breakfast bar. I remember his eyes going up my skirt. So I played him, I played on that.”
Kane’s hands ball into fists. “He hurt you?”
“Naw.” I smirk evilly. “He didn’t get the chance. I knew what was coming. I let it happen. The moment his guard was down I stabbed him in the back.” My smirk fades. “I didn’t feel a thing. Because they did break me, just not in the way they wanted. They broke my mind. I had a psychotic break.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. I was numb. Couldn’t feel a thing. Had to go into a federal rehab facility so they could prepare me to testify against the entire institution and its staff. Had to speak as a witness for other kids there but needed to be sane while I did.”
“I heard about some of this but…” He looks so disbelieving and I don’t blame him. It’s hard to swallow and I’m making him fucking chew it first.
Vicious Page 22
