by Kate L. Mary
She shakes her head, and I know she has no idea what I’m talking about, but saying it helps relieve the tension in my body. I can breathe a little easier now that I’ve washed my hands of her.
My mother leaves without another word, and after she’s gone, I find myself staring at the ceiling, thinking about what my decision might mean for me. It gives me a kind of freedom I haven’t had since I was brought back from the outside world, and it makes me more determined than ever to find Jared. I don’t know where Father David is holding him, and there’s no way I’ll be able to get out of here before the wedding so I can look for him, but one way or another, I have to find him.
When I can no longer sit still, I get to my feet and pace the room. As I walk, a plan begins to formulate in my mind. Knowing what I have to do is a relief, but accepting it still makes me cringe.
I’ll have to go through with the wedding; there’s no other way. But the second it’s over, I’ll look for Jared. Having released myself from the responsibility of taking care of my mother, I’ll be free to leave, and at this moment, there’s nothing in the world I want to do more than run away from this place.
Every few hours, Father David brings me water and escorts me to the bathroom, even letting me shower in the mornings. No one else comes to see me. Not even David. I’m sure it’s because we’re not married yet, and Father David knows, deep down, what his son is capable of. No matter how deranged he is, Father David is very devout when it comes to following the rules set forth by his pretend god. He won’t allow David to assault me, at least not until we’re husband and wife.
He never brings me food, and as the time passes, the hunger gnawing at me makes it difficult to sleep. I pass the time by mentally going through every inch of the main building, trying to figure out where they could be holding Jared. It’s not in this house the way it was in Texas or I would have heard them bring Jared in, and there’s no way Father David would want the two of us so close to one another. The room has to be somewhere in the back of the main building, possibly near his office. It’s the only place private enough to hold a person.
Friday comes, and when I wake, it feels like my body is trying to eat itself. The knowledge that it’s my wedding day, however, makes me uncertain as to whether I’d actually be able to get food down even if I had it. Just thinking about what could happen to me tonight makes my empty stomach jump to my throat.
“Happy Birthday,” I tell myself, nearly choking on the words.
I lie in bed, unable to move. I’m weak from the lack of food, making me doubt that my legs would hold me even if I did get up. I’ve been dreading this day for three years, and it’s come at last. In just a few short hours, I’ll be David’s wife.
The memories of my fifteenth birthday prick at the edges of my mind, and I fight to hold them off, but it’s impossible. They tear through me like a bolt of lightning, and the torrent of panic that follows is thicker than a spring shower. I can hardly breathe. It threatens to drown me.
I will get out of here, I tell myself.
I don’t plan on staying with David for very long after the wedding, but I’m still not sure if I’ll be able to fight him off. There’s a good chance, no matter how repulsive it will be, that I’ll have to give him what he wants. Sacrificing my body may be the only way he’ll let his guard down.
I’m wide awake now, but I don’t bother getting out of bed. Instead, I just stare at the ceiling, dread pooling in my stomach, as I wait for someone to come to me. Minutes tick by, then an hour, and no one shows up. My throat, already parched from the small ration of water Father David has allowed me over the last few days, gets drier by the minute. My stomach, hollow and agitated, growls. Still, I remain alone in my prison.
What should be lunchtime passes, and even though I haven’t had anything to drink in hours, my bladder screams for release. Soon, I find it impossible to sit still, so I get out of bed and pace the room on wobbly legs, writhing in agony as the hours stretch out in front of me.
I’m not going to make it.
When the door finally opens, I rush forward, practically jumping up and down. “Take me to the bathroom, please!”
It barely even registers that it’s my mother and not Father David standing in front of me. I’m in too much pain to care.
She steps aside, and I charge down the hall, slamming the bathroom door behind me.
It isn’t until I’ve relieved myself and I can think a little more clearly that my heart leaps at the sudden turn of events. My mother is here instead of Father David. Maybe I can overpower her? My legs are weak from not eating for days, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, it could work. She’s small. Frail. I can do it.
I take a deep breath and open the door, ready to make a run for it, but instead of my mother, the puffy face of my stepfather greets me.
George grabs me by the arm and jerks me forward. “We’re here to get you ready for your wedding.”
His fingers dig into the bruise David left behind when he dragged me to this house. My stepfather’s eye twitches, and I brace myself, waiting for him to slap me or hit me. Instead, he pushes me back into the bathroom, and I stumble, only stopping myself from falling by grabbing hold of the sink.
“Get in the shower. You have ten minutes—not a second longer.”
I’m shaking when he shuts the door in my face. The adrenaline has melted away, and now all I’m left with are weak, achy limbs that can barely hold me up. When I turn, the room spins. My head feels like it isn’t attached to my body at all, and when I lift my shirt over my head, my hands are shaking.
The hunger has taken a toll on me, and I now doubt I’d be able to make it as far as the front door of the house even if I had overpowered my mother. Which is probably exactly what Father David had in mind when he deprived me of food.
My legs are too unsteady to told hold me up for long, even if I’d been allowed more than ten minutes, and I make it out of the shower in record time. Every move I make takes effort as I dry myself off. I wrap the towel around my body, holding it close as I open the door. Both my mother and George are waiting for me in the hall. My stepfather glares, while at his side, my mother stands, her head down and her face expressionless.
For once, I don’t ache at her disinterest. All I feel is defeat.
“Get dressed,” George barks, jerking his head toward the bedroom.
He leans against the wall, crossing his arms, and I diligently follow my mother into the room. My stepfather isn’t going to leave my side until I’m walking down the aisle, which means my chances of escaping before the wedding just went from slim to none. Even if I had all my energy back, I could never fight him off. I’ve tried before and failed. Miserably.
In the bedroom, I dry myself off and brush out my long, red hair before putting on the undergarments my mother brought me. She sits on the bed in silence, not looking at me. I wait for her to tell me what to do next, but when nothing happens, I take a seat next to her on the bed. Silence collects around us, heavy and suffocating, and I can’t help thinking that this is what my future holds if I don’t get out of here. The real me will shrivel up a little more each day until I’m nothing but an empty shell, just like the woman at my side.
Time passes and slowly, my hair dries. On the wall, the clock ticks as the time for my wedding draws near. My stomach growls, and my mouth gets as dry as the desert I ran through three years ago today. Still, nothing happens.
Two hours pass before my mother finally stands. She walks across the room and opens the closet, pulling my wedding dress out. It takes every ounce of energy inside me to force myself to my feet, but I do, and what feels like a second later, I’m dressed in white from head to toe.
Only two hours until the wedding.
My mother hands me my shoes, and the room spins when I lean down to put them on. My empty stomach begs for food, and I find it hard to stand back up.
Father David did this on purpose. He wanted me to be weak so I could get a glimpse of what
my future held. So I wouldn’t put up a fight.
My mother opens the bedroom door but still doesn’t look at me. “We need to head to the main building. David would like to see you before the wedding.”
I walk out of the house with George on one side and my mother on the other. The streets are empty, and the community is chillingly silent as we head to the main building. Every step I take brings me closer to my prison of a marriage, and every second makes me less and less certain of my ability to survive this night. My mind is spinning, weak and sad, and no matter how hard I try to think of a way out, I can’t. There’s nothing I can do. Even if I could get away, I would need to go to the main building to look for Jared, and the place will be full of people this time of the day. In fact, they’re probably all there now, gathered in the worship hall as they pray for my recovery and for the salvation of Jared’s soul.
We enter the building, and George takes me to Father David’s office, stopping outside the open door. “Go.”
I step inside on shaky legs, leaving my mother and stepfather behind, and the door slams behind me. The room is empty, but my already uneasy stomach still twists into knots. I lower myself into a chair, scanning the room in the process. There has to be something here I could use as a weapon. Only there isn’t, and it wouldn’t matter anyway. I’m weak. Exhausted. Mentally and emotionally beaten and bruised. I don’t stand a chance against the men of this commune.
My gaze stops on the wooden box sitting on Father David’s desk. I hadn’t noticed it the last time I was in here, and something about it screams out to me. The thing isn’t huge, eight inches long and six inches deep, maybe. The wood is dark and smooth, with intricately carved vines on the sides and the lid. There’s also a little latch on it, only it isn’t locked. Why Father David would need a box that locks, I have no idea, but right now I wouldn’t put it past him if he had dozens of secrets locked in that little box.
One glance at the closed door is all it takes for me to make up my mind. I jump to my feet, ignoring the way the room tilts, and hurry across the room on legs that barely hold me up. The box is heavier than I thought it would be. The wood is solid and the corners sharp. My pulse races when I pull on the lid, and the contents make me gasp.
Footsteps thud against the floor out in the hallway, and the sound of male voices penetrates the door. I slam the lid shut and hurry back to my chair, clenching my hands into fists when they shake. Hope, the dangerous little idea that refuses to go away, blooms in my chest.
If I had never run away, the stacks of green paper would mean nothing to me, but when I was staying with Abe and Annabel, I happened to see one of those bills lying on their kitchen counter and asked about it. Money. Annabel had explained it all to me. How to use it, what you could buy with it. She’d been shocked that I didn’t know, but she’d taken her time and answered all my questions, and thank God, whomever that may be, she did.
A smile pulls at my lips as the hope in my chest swells, filling the cracks left behind by David. Finding the box will help us. We can use that money when we leave. Maybe it will even help us make it to Austin.
Chapter 19
The office door opens, and I almost jump out of my chair when David walks in. He’s calm, and the plastic smile on his face makes me feel like I’m looking at a copy of his father.
I squirm in my chair. For some reason, that smile is even more unsettling than his anger was.
“I wanted to talk to you before the wedding, Willow,” he says, taking the chair next to me.
I scoot farther away from him.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking this week and, at the suggestion of my father, spent a lot of time reading The Book of David.”
I swallow. It’s obvious where he’s going with this and why he’s no longer angry. I spent a little time reading the book this week, too, and I found its contents to be very disturbing. But it’s clear by the calm expression on David’s face that to him the words were comforting.
“I’ve decided to forget about your little… mistake.” His expression grows dark, but it quickly disappears and the artificial smile returns. “After all, no damage was really done. Right? I caught you before he could take advantage of you, and as long as I’m the only man who has ever touched you, and as long as you know you’re mine, we can move forward.” He smiles as he reaches out to take my hand, and I want to shrink away from his touch, but just like all the other times I’ve come face to face with David, I find myself paralyzed with fear. “I understand now that you need to be taught. That will be my job as your husband. I know you think you care about Brother Jared, and he believes the same thing from what my father has said, but God will show you the way. You’ll see. It will all turn out fine. Brother Jared will repent, and I’ll teach you how a true Wife of David should act.”
He smiles, and I squirm. He’s waiting for me to say something, but I’m completely speechless. There’s a strange gleam in his eyes that brings the word fanatic to mind, and it scares me almost as much as the thought of being in his bed again does. No matter how many responses pop into my head, I can’t force them past my lips. The man in front of me has taken control of my body, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“It won’t be long now, Willow.” My hand slips from David’s when he gets to his feet. “Before you know it, we’ll be together in our new house. Your mother has already moved your things, so there’s nothing more for you to worry about.” He pauses as he heads for the door, glancing back at me. The smile on his face makes my stomach drop. “Soon, you’ll be mine.”
He shuts the door behind him, once again leaving me alone. My mind is spinning. I still have more than an hour until the wedding, and I’m not foolish enough to even bother trying to open the door. There’s no point. There’s no doubt in my mind that George is out there just in case I decide to make a run for it.
There are no windows in the room, so I have no other way of escape. Briefly, I consider going through the desk, but I’m afraid Father David might come in and catch me, so I decide against it.
I sit back and cross my arms tightly over my chest while I wait, trying to ease the ache deep inside me. At this point, I just want to get it over with. Whatever is going to happen is inevitable, but I need to stay strong. I can’t freeze up. I have to find some of the strength I know is buried deep inside me so I can get through this in one piece.
The closer it gets to six o’clock, the tighter my muscles become. I can’t stop tapping my foot on the ground, and every nerve in my body tingles. I get up and pace the room, but I’m lightheaded from not eating. Nausea hits me, and I close my eyes as my stomach begs for food. When the room sways, I grab the arm of the chair. I need to eat or I don’t know if I’ll make it down the aisle without passing out.
Hesitantly, I walk to the door and open it, peeking out into the hallway. My mother is there, sitting in a chair, but to my surprise, there’s no one else around. Too bad I’m too weak to do anything about it. As it is, I’m having a difficult standing up at all.
I lean against the doorframe so I don’t fall and open the door a little more. “Mother,” I say. “I haven’t eaten in days.”
She doesn’t even blink when she shakes her head. “Father David said no food. He said you could eat after the wedding.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I’m afraid the ache in my chest may actually kill me this time. Her face is utterly expressionless.
I turn away and shut the door, sinking to the ground, not even bothering to walk to the chair. My dress is probably getting wrinkled, and possibly even dirty, but I don’t care. My mother’s response has shattered the last hope I had that she might care about me even a little.
I’m still sitting on the floor when my mother and George walk in to get me for the wedding. I’m numb now. Nothing is left inside me but that ache. My mother offers me her hand, but I ignore it, pulling myself up on my own. It takes a great amount of effort.
I’m shaky, and the room sways again. I’m going to pass out. I l
ean against the wall and close my eyes until the room stops spinning. How will I make it down the aisle? George. He’ll be with me. He’ll make sure I get down the aisle even if he has to carry me.
When I open my eyes, my mother holds something long and white out to me. My veil. I squeeze my eyes shut as I bend down, allowing her to put it on my head. Before I even have a chance to open my eyes, George has me by the arm and is pulling me from the room.
The doors to the worship hall are closed, but an elder is standing outside, waiting for my arrival. We stop in front of the doors so my mother can take her place on my left. George, standing on my right, finally releases my arm, but only so he can grab me by the elbow instead.
When my stepfather nods to the elder, a tiny sob escapes my lips, and I look frantically around the foyer. There’s no one to help me, though, and when my gaze stops on my mother, the quiet disinterest on her face causes the tears I’ve been fighting to spill over. They run down my cheeks and drop onto my dress, but no one notices. Of if they do, they don’t care.
I look away from her, too heartbroken to stare at her any longer.
“Try not to embarrass me,” George hisses, squeezing my elbow tighter.
I wince and brace myself for what’s about to happen.
The elder opens the doors, and every head in the worship hall turns my way. All I can focus on is Father David at the front of the room, though, looking toward me with that imitation smile on his face and a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. George jerks me forward, and my feet stumble over each other as everyone in the room stands.
My feet are heavy and slow as I make my way down the aisle between my mother and stepfather. David walks up to stand next to his father, and just the sight of him causes tremors to move through my body. My legs turn to lead, but George jerks me forward. David smiles, only it isn’t plastic like his father’s. It’s smug. And terrifying.
We reach the front, and David steps forward, taking my hand in his. His skin is warm against mine, hot. Like flames burning me. My heart thuds in my ears, making it impossible to hear what anyone is saying and drowning out every thought in my head. Nothing makes sense. I search the room and find that my mother and George have taken their seats. The Children stare back at me, their eyes big and blank, and I search their faces, looking for something to calm the panic inside me, but I don’t know what I’m searching for. I can’t remember anything but the way David’s touch burns my skin, and I can’t focus. Can barely breathe.