“But what about you, Amelia? What did you do?” Jane asks.
She makes a face, clutching her hands close to her knees. She looks up at Soren, whose eyes are still on me. Everyone here knows we cannot say out loud the things we really want to say or do.
“I … don’t know. I was taken,” Amelia says.
“But you chose this, right?” Olivia mutters. “I mean, we all did.”
“Not me,” I say.
“But I don’t know what I did,” Amelia chimes in.
Everyone looks at her now. She seems to be the only one who doesn’t know why she’s here. The only one who refuses to yield to the gaze of a watchful man. Who isn’t afraid to speak up and say what’s on her mind.
She reminds me of someone I know.
Or someone who I used to know before everything turned to ashes.
Before I signed my own goddamn life away.
Months ago
The underground venue I’m at gives me creepy vibes. But the newspaper ad about this meeting looked so promising. After all the hurt I’ve been through with Eric, I was really up for some soul-searching, and when they mentioned how God could heal everyone’s wounds and give them love, I felt like it spoke to me.
Still, the people gathered here all seem normal and don’t look like they’re afraid even though we’re all cooped up in a tiny underground space. Were they unable to book a bigger, more spacious venue? Or is it because no one wants them there?
I’ve heard the rumors about the people who give these meetings, how people call them a cult.
But I don’t think it’s fair to judge something when you know nothing about it.
And right now, I am in need of something to help me get back on track.
After all, when your boyfriend cheats on you in your own bed when you promised each other to stay virtuous and whole until marriage … that breaks something inside you.
So I stay put and listen to what one of their preachers has to say. And the more they talk, the more I’m beginning to feel the emotion carried by the crowd, the love that’s shown for God, and how much I yearn to be loved for who I am without judgment. Without fear of losing someone I love.
And the longer they talk, the more I begin to believe what they promise when they talk about a sanctuary for those who have lost faith, for those who want to devote their life to others. To love.
But apprehension sinks in the second they mention sex.
Sex as a part of a religion.
It’s not something I’ve ever heard before, and the idea makes me squeamish.
But the people seem so happy when they talk about it.
Maybe I shouldn’t dismiss the idea merely out of ignorance.
Besides, it was sex that drove Eric away from me.
What if this is exactly what I need?
A chance to start anew, at a place where they’ll teach me how to love in the way that he desired? Maybe I’ll finally understand what men really want … and what I truly need.
A paper and a pen are placed on a table. People are asked to come forward to pledge themselves.
And in a moment of weakness, of utter unhappiness with my own life, I step forward too. And I pick up that pen with trembling hands and sign my own name onto that paper.
And with it … I sign away my freedom.
Because when I lay down that pen, two men usher the signers into another room, where a hood is thrown over our heads.
I squeal. “Stop! Don’t do this! I didn’t ask for this!”
But no one responds.
All I hear are the muffled noises of all the other people in this room, waiting for their fate to be sealed.
What did I sign up for?
Why did I want this?
Panic swirls in my veins as it feels like ages pass before we’re taken and shoved into a car.
“Shh … We’ll be there soon, and then the hoods will be taken off.”
Do they not want us to see where we’re going?
Is the place that secret?
I swallow away the lump in my throat, hoping, praying that I made the right decision.
Even if I know, deep down, that it wasn’t.
But it’s too late to turn back now.
The second I signed my name onto that document, I promised myself to God, to the Holy Land, just for a little bit of love.
Just to make me whole again.
But now I’m starting to think these people will only break me more than Eric ever could.
When the hood is finally torn off my face, I only get a few seconds to get used to the bright sun. But my eyes are still opened wide. Everywhere around me, there are grass and huts and people, living like I imagined people would in the Middle Ages. With men chopping blocks of wood, sowing seeds, sheering sheep, and the women rolling yarn, tending to the kids, cooking meals.