Page 5 of The Pact

My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. McKayla was always popular at school, president of the drama club, cheerleading captain and at first Dad was so proud of her because he saw his same charisma in his eldest daughter.

“I—Are they that bad?” I ask with that guy’s taunt still ringing in my ears.

“Ausra, are you all right? Come on, you can’t tell me that people at school aren’t giving you a hard time if you go dressed like a pioneer woman of two hundred years ago. And I know what Dad’s detractors say. That the Church of the Higher Self is a cult. How bad have things gotten since Dad threw me out?”

Honestly, in my own heart, I agree with that statement. Dad is treated like a divinity by his followers. Everything he says is basically gospel. So no, there’s no god they worship, they worship their spiritual leader; and the new position he acquired within his own church, completely changed my father. He became richer and richer thanks to important sponsorships and high profile donations. His innate intolerance grew with his power, taking away the playful, compassionate man I remember from my childhood. He began dictating rules that were more and more invasive into his devotees’ lives. My loving father has been gradually replaced by a tyrant who wants to control everything, including the hearts and minds of the people around him. And that started with his own family.

His preaching has always been aimed at elevating oneself. Reaching the purest form of intellectual life one could aspire to. He formalized the various stages into “circles” and those became the ranks of his followers. Everyone begins on the lowest level or the single circle and then seeks enlightenment by following the “guidance” of my dad’s preaching. Obviously, he is the only one who has so far reached the “Higher Self.”

“He’s not that bad, I promise. He just got a little stricter with me since you left.” I don’t have the courage to tell her that I suspect that he installed cameras in every room of the house and the fact that I have to account for every minute of my day might be her fault. He blames McKayla’s pregnancy to having given her too much freedom.

“Ausra, are you really all right?” I sigh at Mc’s worried expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say not meeting her gaze.

She shakes her head. “I don’t think you are. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how much more covered you are compared to the last time you visited? How much did he tighten the rules?”

Of course McKayla noticed. “Yeah, we’re not supposed to show our outer form because it distracts men from reaching their own enlightenment and prevents us from growing into our purest form.”

McKayla snarls. “That’s fucking bullshit! What’s next, confinement? Living in a shrine and not being allowed to go into the outside world until you marry?” She isn’t that far from reality.

During the last five years, Dad’s philosophy evolved toward a more severe, stricter doctrine. Especially when it comes to women. Ironically that happened at the same time as he had an affair. You’d think that would tarnish his standing in front of his followers but no, Harold Winthrop managed to spin his own fall into an example. Cheating on my mother wasn’t his fault. He painted himself as a righteous and hardworking man who sacrificed to support his family and was ensnared by a temptress.

“Look, after that affair he had, he theorized that women have a harder time reaching enlightenment due to their biology and that it’s the man’s job to help them reach their higher possible self by controlling them and curbing the ‘tempting behaviors.’”

“Are you fucking kidding me? What’s next a scarlet letter on the clothes of the women who don’t dress with his ridiculous choice of clothes so he and the other men in the church council don’t get a hard-on? No offense, sis but I wouldn’t be caught dead in those clothes.”

“None taken.” I try to smile because I know that she means well and that her concern for me is real.

“Ausra, how bad is it really? Is Mom forced to dress like you?”

I confirm that she is. “Women now have a different set of levels of enlightenment because he says we’re unable to elevate ourselves to the purest form of self. Men are in charge of our enlightenment and control every aspect of our lives. Our physical appearance has been identified as the main source of temptation. We have to wear modest clothing, cover our bodies. Makeup is prohibited and we’re to basically live like recluses. I’m just allowed to attend school and church meetings and events. We have to be under constant supervision by our direct ‘male kin.’ Normally a father or husband.”

McKayla sighs. “I’m fucking surprised he still lets you go to school.”

I still can’t meet her gaze. “The council is discussing having female minors homeschooled. And they already decided that women who wish to pursue higher education after high school should do so within city limits.”

My sister shakes her head. “I don’t like it, Ausra. What about your dream to go to Yale?”

“It’s out of the question. I got in but there’s no way to even bring it up with him. I don’t qualify for any scholarship because his income is like the one of a small European country. And, of course, he’ll never pay for it. I was hoping he’d be ok with Stanford, even though it’s a three hour drive, but he told me that he has to think about it, that he and Mom might miss me too much, now that I’m—”

I stop in my tracks but my sister knows what I was about to say. “Now that you’re an only child, huh?”

“Mc, I—”

She takes my hand. “No, babe. I made my peace with it. I broke all his rules and I got cut off. Look, I might not have much but all I have is mine. And Skye and I are free. I don’t want my daughter to grow up the same way you and I did in the last few years. And it sounds like it’s getting worse. Yes, I rebelled and I was ready to pay the price for it but giving up my own daughter is a price that was way too high for me.”

I don’t blame McKayla and a part of me envies her for having the strength to follow her own path and resist the unbearable pressure that being part of our family entails.

I’ll turn eighteen in three weeks but my father made it clear when he kicked out a pregnant McKayla and cut her off from the family that as long as we live under his roof, we’re to follow his rules.

“I better go, Mc. I want to be home before the church council meeting is over. You know, it’s better not to draw too much attention to my movements.”

My sister nods. “You’re eighteen soon, babe. You know that if you need it, there’s always a place here with me and Skye.”

I thank her, holding her tight for a long moment when she hugs me goodbye. McKayla has a big heart and there’s definitely more love in this tiny apartment than in the big mansion that’s starting to feel more and more like a prison to me. However, I can see how much she’s struggling and I couldn’t come here and be a burden to her. I need to make it through college, following Dad’s rules. Then I can break free. I can find a job and help McKayla and Skye more.

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