Indoctrinated

I opened my eyes and I was standing in a garden. A young, maybe 14 year old, blonde girl was waiting for me. Her hair was half up, half down… a small amount of hair pulled from the top and sides secured with a silky powder blue ribbon and the rest left to fall down to her mid back. Her ribbon matched her appropriately modest, powder blue dress.

I knew that I didn’t belong here… but I wanted to try my hand.The word “cult” kept echoing in the back of my brain, but I didn’t care. I had to try…

She led me to a gazebo. All the sides were boarded shut from the outside save for a few gaps that allowed sunlight to spill in. The inside was spiderwebbed with thin boards spanning from the bottom of the octagon structure all the way to the top. These slats were painted light purple at the bottom tier and bled their way into a sky blue towards the top. I was handed a decent sized tree brach stripped of its twigs, so that it was easier to maneuver, and I understood that I was then assigned a task.

The task, consisted of gliding the stick around one of the levels of boards nailed to the inner part of the gazebo over and over until “God” assisted my hand. Without saying, I also understood that this process could take an untold amount of time. The level at which you started your rotation, was determined by the church.

With minimal guidance from the blonde girl in the powder blue dress, I was able to begin my stick rotation rather high up in the wooden web. I spun in a circle, seeing scripture painted upon each slat as the branch glided atop them. I completed maybe three rotations when somehow my stick had ascended to the top tier and hit a snag. Shaped like the Star of Bethlehem, a white star was painted on a sky blue board. A hole drilled in the middle so the sunlight could illuminate it from within. It was labeled “The God’s Eye”.

I stopped, shocked. The blonde girl smiled and took my hand to lead me away. It was at this moment I looked down at what I was wearing. The dress was titanium white.The bodice had a lace overlay that was every bit as white with pearl buttons from just above the hip all the way up to mid neck. The skirt was just past the knee, matte satin with a thick glossy satin border at the bottom.

Following the hand of the girl, I was lead to a woman who was universally understood to be important in this Christian driven cult of a church with no questions asked. My story was narrated to the woman and the “god’s eye” event was emphasized.

The Matriarch smiled in a way that I’ve only seen from predatory animals just before they sink their teeth into a fresh kill. All of her teeth were visible and her eyes were bright. She pulled the corners of her mouth in, cloaking her large teeth… “Great job” she stated as she extended her hand. I shook it immediately. He looked at my hand, still shaking, and then locked eyes with me. “ You’ve accomplished such great things in such a short amount of time.”

Organ music swelled in the background as the congregation started seating. There was a balcony that was reserved for very prestigious members of the church. Based on my performance and further propagated by my review from the Matriarch, I understood that I would be taking a place on this balcony as well. Humbly I watched the balcony fill up, seat by seat.

Confused by the last seat being taken, I turned to the sanctified creature I believed to be a leader. She was watching the section fill just as I was. Her expression never changed, her body never sought the release of relaxation even within the confines of the pew in which she sat. Seeing the section at capacity, her smile thinned in width but widened in length as she turned to face me. “Oh goodness” she lamented, “it seems we are lucky to have a full service today. Why don’t you go ahead and sit outside?”.

Her words sank into me like infectious fangs. It all made sense.They didn’t want me there.Their rules had accelerated my rising of the ranks but they didn’t account for that. They didn’t have time for indoctrination. They didn’t have the chance to break me down in order to empower me with their version of scripture.

I was so angry. Bump bump (the heart beat in my ears).

Deep breath. Bump bump.

Livid. Bump bump, bump bump.

My vision is narrowing. Bump bump, bump bump, bump bump.

My heart rate is spiking. Mu mind is racing. I’m not good enough?

Bumpbump,bumpbump,bumpbump

I turned on my heal, silent, and started heading toward the door.

bmpbmpbmpbmpbmpbmp

I grabbed my lapel with both hands, dug my nails in, and viciously tore open my dress.

*ears ringing*

My cleavage revealed, the congregation gasped in horror.

My brow furrowed, I made sure to make eye contact with as many of the church as possible. I wanted them to feel my anger to its fullest extent.

I continued to tear away my dress until I was merely draped with rags. Why did they hold false promises?

Bump bump. Bump Bump.

Why did they try to make me feel important and then pull the rug from beneath my feet?

Bump bump.

I earned a highly coveted spot in their stupid cult, why was I not revered?

Deep breath.

I hate them.

I realized after I was completely outside those doors of hypocrisy… about half way down the aisle I started whispering to the Fallen Angel. I knew he understood why I was mad and that he could console me. When the sun greeted my face as I had stepped outside I felt the warmth of belonging as Lucifer’s hand guided mine.

I had been reaching out to him before I even left the church… and possibly my whole life.