Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“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.”