Page 35 of Acts of Contrition

How many times in my life have I wanted to die? Too many to count. Always too much of a pussy to kill myself. So I endured.

I don’t have to endure anymore. Not the night terrors, the torture, the solitude. One step out of line and I can hopefully get her to use the shocks enough to stop my heart.

“I only just found you. I have to pray I won’t lose you yet.”

I shake my head and stand up, wanting to get Thomas’ words out of my brain.

I won’t tempt fate … yet. Not because of his words; no. Of course not. Because I could have a better opportunity in the future. That’s all.

That’s all, right?

Lisa brought me the first real clothes I’ll ever have worn since I was fifteen. Even during my ten months alone, I mostly wore what I had to in the streets and pajamas at home.

Straight-leg black jeans, black Converse, and a flowy red blouse. Fabric softener, the expensive kind, wafts from them. Luxuries I never dreamed I’d hold. The brands are all designer.

I get dressed and am unsure what to do now when the door opens. Catherine pokes her head in.

“Oh, you look proper lovely!” she gushes. “Are you ready?”

I nod, wondering if this is some sort of hallucination. Thomas used drugs on me once, who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again?

“After you,” Lisa says, gesturing for me to follow Catherine up a sturdy but dark flight of stairs.

I do so, entering a small vestibule with three corridors and one closed door; I assume a broom closet or something. There’s white and gray tile, and darker gray paint on the walls with white wainscotting.

Catherine leads me down the shortest corridor, which leads to a living room done in more tasteful gray tones. There is a splash of color in the form of a framed yellow soccer jersey and another splash of pink from flowers in a vase on top of a mantle. Thomas is reading a book on a comfortable-looking light gray couch, and a striped gray tabby sits at his side.

He has a cat?

Lisa goes and hands him the key to my anklet, which he puts around his neck once more before looking at me.

I flinch, knowing whenever Mike scrutinized me, it usually led to some fault and a beating.

He nods. “Enjoy yourselves, ladies. Lisa, you promised to bring pastries back to me. Don’t forget.” He looks at me again and offers a soft smile before going back to his book.

This is the same man who whipped my skin bloody two days ago? Along with all the other atrocities?

“Come on,” Lisa says impatiently. She hands me a pair of sunglasses. “It’s been a while, you’ll need these.”

Designer. My whole outfit cost more than three months of rent at Rick’s apartment.

They lead me outside and the warm late spring sun shines on my face for the first time in a month. Catherine stands at my side, I assume to keep me from running before needing to use the electroshocks.

This small, cute house sits on a property near a lake, which has a dock that looks like you can swim off of it. I hear ducks quacking somewhere. There are other houses in the distance, and a small white church with a gigantic white cross.

It’s so green. How far out in the suburbs are we?

“It’s lovely here, hm?” Catherine says. “When my dear Oliver brought me here, it was just us and two others who wished to build a community.” She gestures around. “Look at all God provided.”

Did He provide you to Oliver too?I wonder.

“Did…” My throat closes, too afraid to ask.

Catherine turns towards me. “What, dear?”

“Did you and Lisa come here like me?”

Lisa calls, “Not me; my brother and I met Father Oliver and chose to join and surrender our sin voluntarily.”

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