Chapter 7

As time went on, the older I got, it was such a part of my life, my psyche, that at some point it became acceptable. Even to me. It was just the way it was. I learned that if I didn’t fight it, it wasn’t as bad. In fact, it seemed in my fucked up head, that some of them loved me. At least, from my loner perspective, they were paying attention to me. I craved that. I never fit in there. Ever. Again, I think because this started so young, from the first time, I felt like I had been given a beacon. It seemed like everyone already knew. Like all the perverts talked or something. As hard as I tried, I never had normal friends there. I remember one time when another new family arrived. They had two boys. They were around my age, a bit younger if I remember correctly….they didn’t stay long. One day after lunch I was allowed to go play with them. I remember being SO happy to have someone to play with….and, they had HUGE toy trucks that I had never seen before…. that I didn’t want to leave to go to the bathroom for fear of ending it so I held it…..until, I couldn’t any more, and shit my pants. I ran for my life across the courtyard and to my cabin embarrassed to death of what had happened. I don’t remember playing with them again.

I’ve been asked why I never told anyone about what was going on. I’ll try to explain that. First, it was engraved on our souls from the day of our entrance into this world that we were to respect and obey our elders. If not, we paid the consequences. Second, as I mentioned at the start of this, we, the robots of the Cult, were controlled by fear. The fear of God and the fear of whatever may happen if we disobeyed Him or our Elders. When my initiation into this perversion happened, he was very smart. First of all he told me that my parents already knew, that’s why I had been placed there while they were gone. It was part of the “plan”. He also made it very clear that God had chosen me to be “special” but it was important that it be kept a secret or else He, God, would punish me. I was a child, a brainwashed child, a scared child so why would I disobey him, and God. To this day I struggle sometimes getting his twisted words out of my head. Besides all of that, being the son of the Leader, I…as was the whole family…was expected to be perfect. I wasn’t allowed to complain and if I did it was put to an end real quick. If truth be told, I never really had a relationship with my father during that time. He was always away, or dealing with the affairs of the Cult. We never really talked about anything, unless it was in a disciplinary setting….and, my brother was the golden son. Even if I did say anything, if my brother said it didn’t happen, it didn’t happen. I was always a Mama’s boy, and, for as far back as I can remember, I used to feel sorry for my mom because, through my little eyes, I thought she looked sad a lot. As crazy as it sounds, I didn’t want to bother her with it. She, bless her, had her hands, and her heart full trying to maintain a “perfect” household, a lot of the time by herself, as well as trying to be a role model for all the other women on that damned place. As for the other more violent devils, it was a lot the same, although they used more threats. Also, as I mentioned, the most defining moment in all of this was when during one particularly violent episode, the mother sat knitting….across the room…..didn’t say a word. My brother happened to peak in and, never mentioned a thing about what he saw. So that told me even if I did have the balls to say anything about any of this, nobody would believe me. Nobody would care. So, why risk the repercussions.

In that mind, I lived.