The Death of Mary Ann ★ CNS Issue #9

Barbara, 1978 | El Paso, Texas | Pre-Awakening

Rumors were sweeping through the compound as fast as the promise of her return; my daughter, Mary Ann. A few of the girls and a boy disappeared when she was 11, or at least that’s what my husband, Stacey, had insisted on four years ago. Someone must have kidnapped them, he’d said, feigning sadness. I remembered sitting, staring, useless as i was, listening to him tell me that my daughter was gone and feeling like i’d died inside. I glared at my reflection in the mirror of my vanity; i could hardly stand the sight of myself. Even after she was gone, i did nothing. I sat and felt sorry for myself instead of doing anything that wasn’t absolutely worthless. I grew numb. Now everything i’d refused to feel for so long was flooding back through me.

I fell in with this cult, this ridiculous scam, in my desperate search for love and acceptance. Stacey was the leader, and in my naive youth, my life full of neglect and abuse, he’d convinced me that this horrific lie was the way out. I was the youngest of his wives and had only had one of his children, the others had had many. The truth of what this whole thing was came crashing through my denial, my rationalizations, the day she disappeared, the day my child was gone. For the past four years i slowly figured out what Mary Ann had realized just before she was gone. Who was she now? Why would she come back to this Hell?

I stood aside for so long, i watched Stacey and the other wives abuse these children, i watched them con the cops who attempted to investigate and even backed up their wild stories, making sure we would never be arrested. I let this happen, i made this happen. These thoughts flooded my head as i saw the first glow of the flames. I jumped up, looked out the window and gasped. It was a circle of fire, apparently wrapping around the entire structure, and there were people standing inside of the circle facing us, looming. A lot of people. I whirled around and saw Stacey and a few of the other wives run out of our chambers, muttering to themselves about getting everything they needed before the fire got to the structure itself. I snorted in disgust. Who cared about the children who lived here, all that mattered to these “god-fearing people” were their material possessions. The thought of the children made me suddenly frantic. I put my shoes on and walked quickly toward the door, but i heard a commotion and screaming from the hallway. When i turned the corner, i saw the kids running for the exit, they were all happy, cheering! I was bewildered. The older ones were leading a few of the younger ones out of the compound; i wondered where the rest of them were and began looking around, then i saw Stacey. As they were running by, he fell to the floor and yelled at them.

“You will pay for this with your souls! Thou shalt not disrespect thy father! How dare you! You will-“

“Nothing! We will, nothing!” One of the teenagers aimed a kick right into his stomach. Stacey looked up at me angrily.

“Help me!” He snarled.

This wasn’t a man of God, this was pure evil. Using God to manipulate and hurt people was not of God. I watched the children escape, so many of them with scars from lacerations on their bodies from past “discipline.” That was it.

“Shut up!” I screamed. He stared at me. I kneeled and slapped him with every bit of strength I had. My hand stung.

“Know your place, woman,” he spat. I looked down at him and stood up straight. I made eye contact with one of the older boys, nodded once, then backed away.

“This is my place.”

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★ Issue #9 ||| 2.1.2023 ★