Page 18 of The Pact

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Ausra

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LAST NIGHT I FELL ASLEEP with the warmth of Kelley’s lips still on mine.

I checked on Mc and Skye before going into my room and climbing into bed.

All I could think of in the dark, waiting for sleep to claim me, was how being kissed by Kelley was different than I’d have imagined. Sweeter, softer. When sleep had finally taken me under, I could still taste him on my lips.

I stare at the ceiling and let myself remember that kiss again. My nipples instantly harden against the thick cotton of my nighty and I immediately get out of bed.

“Your physical urges are a shackle for your soul. Letting them guide you is a sure way to never reach enlightenment. There’s no Heaven or Hell. There’s Purity and Impurity. Pure souls will live on in peace and harmony. The impure souls will wander the Earth in torment.”

My father’s words echo in my ears, making me feel a pang of guilt. Not only for letting him kiss me but for wanting him to in the first place.

I step in front of the full-length mirror by the window, looking at my reflection.

My long sleeved, white nighty is made of thick cotton. The neckline is high, covering me up to the base of my throat and the hem is long, almost to my ankles. It has a motif of embroidered light pink flowers on my upper chest and a tiny pink bow along a line of buttons that end midway on my sternum.

Mom bought me a few nighties like this when McKayla was kicked out of the house and I was no longer allowed the PJs with shorts I used to favor. Also no more jeans, leggings and any tops that would leave my arms or shoulders exposed. No matter how hot it was outside, my whole body had to be covered.

When I feebly tried to question my new wardrobe options, Mom told me that it was to protect me; from temptation, from the choices that “took McKayla from us.” My parents kept referring to her as if she was dead.

“What the fuck? That looks like the sort of nighty I remember grandma wearing when we were little,” McKayla had commented when she’d seen them.

And now I look at myself in the mirror and I still see what she sees. The nighties are the only things I haven’t had the chance to replace since moving out of Dad’s house. And I will as soon as I have the money.

I shed the nighty, feeling relieved as soon as the heavy fabric is no longer touching my skin.

Kelley never really asked me out but I want to go out with him I decide, and I know where to find him. He and Bode made plans to train today and I saw where their windsurfing club is located every day on my way to school. I’m still conflicted because it’s hard to forget how he laughed at me six months ago but last night I saw a different side to him and his friends. Fierce, protective, kind.

And I can’t forget that kiss. I admit that I hope to kiss him again.

I put on the black bikini Mc bought me for my birthday and cover it up with a short denim skirt and a black tank top.

I leave my blonde hair down in soft waves and swipe a red tinted lipgloss on my lips.

“You look like a cheap whore!”

Slap!

I instinctively bring my hand up to my cheek, remembering the red fingers Dad had left printed on my skin. Marking me, so that everyone could see my shame, how I wasn’t the good girl my parents were working so hard to raise.

It still stings after almost a year.

It was the day after he’d kicked out my sister. I was getting ready for school and he passed by my bedroom while I was putting on my lipgloss. That night, Mom brought me new clothes and new nighties. She asked me to give her all my makeup and I was informed that I was expected to be modest so as to not bring shame to my family and to the church.

What Mc had done, getting pregnant out of wedlock, while still in school, went against everything Dad preached. How could he face his followers and lead them onto a path of purity if his own flesh and blood were slaves to the basest physical urges?

“Your father and I expect you to stay pure, Ausra. We expect you to hold onto your virginity until you marry. It’s especially important now that Dad is revealing the pillars and the different levels of enlightenment. You and I need to be the brightest example of what his followers can hope to achieve if they give themselves to his philosophy.”

I still feel suffocated when I think about what my life had become after Mac moved out.

The door was taken out of my bedroom and even my bathroom. I was always under scrutiny and under my parents’ watchful eye. Always warned about temptation, always judged and found lacking even when I went out of my way to do what they expected of me.

It was like Dad wanted control of every aspect of my life no matter how small or intimate. I was warned against my own thoughts. He said that women tended to stray, to focus on the frivolous things in life. This is why he was trying to take away everything that wasn’t essential. So that my focus could be on my soul and beauty could shine from within.

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