Chapter 20
Later that night, I take my worn-out, filthy clothes to the laundry room which is around the corner from the bedroom quarters. I think about tonight as I cross the street at the back of my dorm’s line.
I didn’t mention anything to Duncan about what I heard in the hallway, even though he dropped hints, I acted as though I was oblivious. He’s trying to play a game and I’m not playing.
After a quick, manipulative conversation, he made me stand outside the cubical of Carol while she slept soundlessly covered in bandages and bruises. He made me watch her, he made me observe her pain, her weakness—he made me stare at her broken, beaten body while he blabbed about nonsense beside me, trying to provoke a reaction from me. It was a metaphorical warning, not only that, but it was the test Elijah was referring to. I had to remain still, with my head high, watching the machine beep away beside her as a doctor made notes regarding her injuries. He made me stand there for what felt like hours, while he whispered into my ear and grazed his hand down my thigh. He called Carol a slut, repeatedly, he said that she was to blame for everything and that the world would be better without her.
He asked me if I agreed.
I looked at her face as I replied a quiet yes. I felt my heart begin to shred, my fingers began to squeeze together in anger as I fought the urge to punch him. He rambled about how ugly she was, how skinny and undesirable she was. How any boy would have to be blind to actually notice her?
He asked me if I agreed.
I follow my line into the laundry room, not wanting to dwell any further on the events of tonight. I’m now wearing a light grey gown that flows to my ankles and my hair is tied back into a ponytail, which is, apparently, allowed after sundown. I’m so exhausted that I don’t even take notice to anyone on duty that is here, I just hold out my uniform and someone takes it. I hear the noises of the loud washing machines that bang against the walls and it stirs my headache into a migraine.
It only takes a couple of minutes and the line is heading back to the bedroom quarters. I drift aimlessly behind Ruth, using what strength I have left to frown for her. I hope that she doesn’t have repercussions from her actions today, I hope that I’ve done enough to save her from the punishment of saving me.
When we arrive back inside our dorm, all the girls and women descend straight to their beds. There is no conversation, no glances, no whispering, nothing. I have to keep reminding myself that they were out there in the field also and they all must be feeling the strain of breathing today.
Madam Katelyn stands in the doorway of the dorm; she is a large, glaring shadow that looms over us with judgement. She flicks her eyes across each of us as we climb into our beds and bury ourselves underneath the covers.
“See you at dawn,” she says.
And the door slams closed.
Chapter 21
“Wake up!”
The screeching words pull me out of my sleep first, followed by a reverberation that sounds as blunt as a smack. I snap my eyes open, lifting my head to look towards where the noise is coming from. Across the dorm, Madam Katelyn stands above a bed, with a lantern in her hand that she holds in the air.
I rub my eyes, blinking myself back into reality. I meet the terrified gaze of the young girl across from me, who is panting heavily, as though she knows what’s coming. I look back to the other side of the dorm and I hold my breath as Ruth gently lifts herself up from the mattress. Madam Katelyn begins limping towards the door, with Ruth slowly following, her head high and alert.
“What’s happening?” I say, to anyone or anything.
“Shut up,” Madam Katelyn says as she passes me and wanders into the light of the hallway. “Back to sleep, all of you!”
Through the gap of the doorway, I see the other supervisors gathered outside, standing in a line, waiting for Ruth. Is this because of me? Is this the punishment Elijah said would happen?
I throw the covers from my body, rising to my feet and I meet Ruth’s brave eyes. She stops walking, observing my actions and she keeps her head high.
“Go back to sleep, Elizabeth,” she says.
“What’s happening?” I say. “Where are they taking you?”
Ruth just smiles, staring into my eyes like she’s trying to catch a glimpse of them changing colour. “It’s not your fault,” she says. “Remember that.”
I freeze as she walks around me and she steps outside of the dorm into the bright light of the hallway.
“No,” I whisper. I charge myself behind her, but the door slams shut and a bolt is sealed across it. I try to open it, I twist my hand frantically around the doorknob, while thumping my fist against the steel frame. “Ruth!”
I see her through the glass window of the door, she looks back to me, just for a moment, with that same smile on her face—like she’s been waiting a long time to show that smile to someone. I thump harder, trying to get someone’s attention, I begin screaming, I begin hyper-ventilating.
And then, Ruth is gone.
I rest my face into the glass, clenching my teeth as my body begins to fall to the floor. I fall to my knees, holding my face with my hands as I ignore all the stares from the other members. They’re just as frantic, just as angry, they just can’t express it like myself.
“Elizabeth,” a small voice says.
I look upwards, meeting the eyes of the young girl that sleeps in the bed across from me. She is that same adorable, pretty girl that was whipped earlier, that gave me inspiration earlier, that made me carry on even when I was close to dying.
“What are you doing?” she says.
“I’m waiting for Ruth,” I say back.
“Foolish girl,” a hard voice says from across the dorm. It belongs to one of the older members, but it’s too dark to be sure.
“Ruth isn’t coming back,” the girl says. “They don’t come back.”
“No,” I whisper. “She’ll come back. She has to.”
“Elizabeth,” the girl says. “Was she taken because of you?”
I gaze at the girl, my heart breaks at her question. I know what the answer is, I know what the truth is, but I just can’t find the words to say it. Once I say it, it becomes real, it becomes heard. I can never take it back, I can never justify it, I can never forgive myself.
“Get back to bed, Mary,” a woman calls from inside the darkness.
“Ruth was my friend,” Mary says, so sweetly that is causes a tear to roll my cheek. “We’re not allowed friends, but she was my friend.”
“She was mine too,” I whisper.
“Mary!”
“Go on,” I say. “Listen to them, get back to bed.”
As Mary sighs and heeds our advice to go back to bed, another shadow decides to cross over and approach me. I blink into the dim light that reveals a tall woman that looks around Ruth’s age—she’s got fiery red hair that is in waves down her shoulders. She’s beautiful.
“You should get back into bed,” she whispers. “If they come back and catch you, then—”
“It was my fault,” I say quietly. “I stepped out into the aisle, I shouldn’t have reacted. I thought… I thought I had taken care of it.”
The woman kneels before me, but I rest my face onto my arm that is folded over my knees, refusing to look at her. “Feel angry, feel sad, feel powerless, but don’t feel guilty. Guilt will destroy you.”
“What’s your name?” I say.
“Victoria.”
“Victoria,” I say. “Tell me the truth, where have they taken her?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “None of us know. There are two types of punishments. One is the renouncement, like you witnessed yesterday. That’s the safest one, the punishment that you will survive. The other, is being awakened during the night and taken to somewhere we call the unknown. No one ever returns.”
I glance up. “It’s happened before?”
“Yes,” she says. “And it will happen to you if you don’t do as you’re told.”
“
I’m not a child.”
“Neither are we,” she says, a little offended. “Do you think we want to be here? Ruth made her own choice when she stopped you from protesting against the renouncement, she knew what the consequences would be. No one forced her. If anything, I think she did it on purpose because she wanted to be taken. She wanted a way out. And you gave it to her.”
“Why are you being nice to me?” I demand weakly.
“Because I remember my first day,” she says. “And I know exactly what you’re feeling. Eventually, it will get better, even if it gets worse.”
“That’s not very helpful,” I say, a small smile coming from my lips.
“It’s all I’ve got,” she says. She rises to her feet and gazes down at me from above. “You survived the field, that’s one of the most difficult jobs here and you got through it on your first day. Other new members weren’t so lucky.”
“So, I just have to accept that Ruth is gone?”
“We all do,” she says. “Ruth is never coming back. All we can do now, is pray.”
She walks away after that last sentence, scurrying back to the other side of the dorm. I sit against the door for a while, replaying the moment of before when Ruth smiled at me. She didn’t look afraid, she didn’t look surprised—it was as though she knew it was coming.
Should that make me feel better? Should that bring me comfort? If anything, it makes it worse because that would mean that she truly saw no other way out. But, what is the way out? The only known conclusion is that she’s now been down-graded to group D. And according to anyone that has mentioned it, group D is the place no one wants to go. It is the group that is isolated from the rest of us that may not even be real.
And if she is in group D now, then there’s a slight chance I might never see her again. I might never get the chance to thank her. I’ve only known her for a day, but she has already saved my life. She has already saved me from possibly becoming a member of group D myself. She took my place.
I can’t ever repay her for that. Like Victoria said, I can only pray. Even though praying will never be close enough.
Chapter 22
I stand with group C at the back of the assembly chapel just after we were collected at sunrise. I didn’t get much sleep after Ruth was taken, I laid in bed tossing and turning while the remainder of my dorm slept guilt-free and peacefully. I kept hoping that what Mary and Victoria said, was just a product of fear and miscalculation. But as the minutes turned into hours, I had to somehow accept that Ruth was never coming back. Even though that thought makes my stomach churn in knots.
I’m wearing a thin crop top and uncomfortable trousers that are too big for me, but I’m not in a caring mood to complain about the uniform. There are other things on my mind. Because of the events of last night, I didn’t get to voice my opinion on the renouncement of Carol. I have no idea which way this will go today, I can only watch as this innocent girl becomes an object of rejection.
I glance up to the platform above us and my eyes fall on Elijah. He stands at the farthest left, his hands astride his legs as he stares down at the still members awaiting Duncan’s arrival. He doesn’t look at me, so I drop my eyes, turning to Victoria instead.
“Who gives the overall answer?” I whisper.
“We have one usual speaker,” she says. “The woman a few rows in front. She collects the majority vote around her and gives the answer. But, any member can give an answer. It goes in favour of whoever is quickest.”
Suddenly, Duncan appears through the curtains of the stage—with Carol limply following closely behind him. Her head is still bandaged, and the bruises around her eyes and jaw have magnified. Her face looks like a child has decided to pick up a paint brush and experiment their awful talent upon her. Her eyes remain down, her hands are tightly entwined at the bottom of her stomach.
Curious, I turn my attention to Andrew. He keeps his head high, his shoulders stiff, his eyes precise and serious. The poor thing loves her, that’s obvious, no matter how much he tries to hide it. I see the lump in his throat, the notion of his fingers grazing against his leg, the occasional glance down and back up again, because every time he looks at her injuries, he can’t look anymore. He’s hoping—no—he’s praying, that this won’t be the last time he ever sees her, because remembering her this way will haunt him for the rest of his life.
“Good morning, members,” Duncan says. “I trust you all had a thoughtless sleep. This morning we will hear Carol’s renouncement and you will deliver judgement based on the information given.”
How can he be so calm after what he did last night? How can he just carry on knowing that he has destroyed a woman’s life? Not only Ruth, but the cowering girl beside him too. Duncan doesn’t feel guilt nor remorse, how could he?
Despite the principals and beliefs, and irrational morals infected inside his head—without being able to feel guilt, that in turn makes him a psychopath. If he isn’t one already, then he is definitely almost there. And the only known endgame to being a psychopath, is serial killing.
Duncan pushes Carol to her knees in front of the first row of the women’s group A, her eyes squint closed like Andrew’s did. I don’t blame her, if I had several group A eyes staring into me with a hateful detest, I’d definitely close them too.
“Do you renounce your sin, slut?” Duncan goads, poking her with a metaphorical stick. “Today!”
“I renounce,” Carol says quietly, her body jolts at the sound of his voice. “I renounce my sins before God in the hope that he can forgive me.”
“What sins?” Duncan says.
“I was possessed by the devil. I seduced Andrew, it was my fault. I kissed him and I hoped for things to go further.”
She’s saying what she needs to say to avoid another beating, I get that. I can hear the lie in her voice as clearly as though she had said the opposite. She doesn’t truly believe it was her fault, nor does she believe she was possessed. If she did, that would mean that Duncan has broken her—and that’s beginning to feel like a fate worse than death.
“Go further, how?” Duncan questions, his eyes scrolling around the women.
“I…” her voice trails off, her eyes snap open, knowing she’s said the wrong thing. “I…”
Come on, you can do this. I think to myself.
She looks to each woman, their glares putting her on the edge of a breakdown, until they flick to the back. To me. Her damaged eyes meet mine and her face almost softens as she realises I’m giving her a look of support. I discreetly nod my head, flashing her a quick smile.
“I wanted to confess my love for him,” she says, the lie becoming more confident. “But now the devil is gone, I have no such feelings. Thank you, Pastor, for releasing me of my burden. I was saved.”
I keep my small smile, turning my attention to Duncan. He stares at her, baffled and unable to process that sudden turn of renouncement. He was expecting a confession of sexual contact, something that may not ever be forgiven. I might not have been able to save Ruth, but I can do all I can to save this girl, even if it just means looking at her like a human being and not like a vulture scouring for its food.
“Yes,” Duncan says. “I saved you.”
The gasps of the women can be heard now, their snarls are replaced with breaths of confusion. He admitted it. And his voice is the only voice they are truly listening to. I can’t hide the grin forming on my face, my hands tighten at my stomach and my body begins to gently sway.
“For now,” Duncan continues.
My grin fades.
“Redemption is only temporary,” he says. “Sooner or later, the devil will come crawling back. And you must be strong enough to resist him. I don’t think you are.”
The women of A and B respond again, their eyes narrowing and their teeth clenching together in anger.
“I am strong enough,” Carol says. “I will be—”
“Silence!” Duncan roars. “The renouncement is over. It’s time to hear the verdict. Group
A, do you accept her renouncement?”
“No!” they scream, all together, all as one, like the men from yesterday.
“Group B,” Duncan says. “Do you accept her renouncement?”
The women of group B follow in their idol’s footsteps, protesting with one voice, delivering a thunderous rejection.
“Group C.” Duncan’s eyes flick to the back of the chapel, amusement lights up his face like a Christmas tree. “Do you accept her renouncement?”
I look at my group. The silence is paralyzing. I glance at Victoria and she shakes her head at me, giving me a clear sign of an answer that I haven’t heard yet. Ruth explained last night that group C won’t accept any more renouncement because it would mean waiting even longer to ever be given the chance of freedom—but I don’t care.
A few lines ahead of me I see a wrinkly, grey-haired woman glance around to her peers for a final majority answer. My hands sweat as I see all of them shake their heads at her. I recognise the woman, she’s one of the older generations in my dorm. She was the one that called me a foolish girl, whose voice can make your skin turn blue if she raises it.
She goes to speak, her voice loud and clear. “N—”
“Yes,” I shout. “We accept.”
Suddenly, all eyes turn to me. Every single pair of eyes in the entire chapel are on me, turning my body into a melting pile of goo. The woman that was about to give her answer glares at me harder than anyone else, her piercing brown eyes begin to turn me to stone as I stare back at her.
And then, A and B begin protesting verbally, their voices rambling on and on as they object her to be given the chance to be let into any group. The woman still glares at me.
“Why did you do that?” Victoria whispers angrily.
“Because you’re all sexist morons,” I say back. “Why should Andrew be allowed into a group but not her?”
“Now’s not the time to initiate feminism,” she says through her teeth. “Do you realise what you’ve just done?”
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