Free The Missing- Volume II- Lies by A. Meredith Walters, A. M. Irvin Page B

really trying.
    So I sang and sang.
    Just for her.

The Past
    Two And A Half Months Ago
     
    “D ear Heavenly Father, take this child into your arms. Bless her with your love. Show compassion to her struggling mother, who tries to find a way to love such an abomination. Heal this child and this family. Purge the evil from Nora Gilbert and wash away her sin. Cleanse her soul so that it is reflected on her skin.”
    The bite of the cane cut me open.
    Over and over.
    I kept my head bowed. I took the beating. I pretended to pray. But I wasn’t. It was my silent act of defiance.
    “You must be purged of your sin. To purge the sin, you must feel the pain of Christ’s sacrifice,” Reverend Miller droned on and on.
    I had to purge my sin. I had to feel Christ’s pain.
    All so Mother would have a pretty, pretty daughter.
    “Purge your sin, Nora,” Rosie taunted from her spot beside Mother.
    I didn’t cry out when the cane connected with raw flesh.
    “Are you praying, Nora? Are you asking for forgiveness?” Reverend asked, hitting me harder. If I looked up, I knew that I’d see his smile. He enjoyed this. He liked to watch me bleed.
    I could feel his sadism.
    “What am I asking forgiveness for?” I dared to ask. I shocked myself. I shocked Reverend Miller. He paused, the cane poised over my broken, bleeding back.
    I glanced up, my hair hiding me. Reverend Miller seemed bothered that I had spoken. His face was flushed, his lips parted. His overeager desire obvious by the bulge in his pants.
    His hand trembled. Mother was horrified by my disobedience. “Shut up, Nora! You’re supposed to be praying!” she scolded.
    Rosie smirked. “You have to purge your sin, Nora. That’s why you’re here.”
    I wished Reverend Miller would turn his cane on her . I imagined Rosie sprawled out on the floor, her exposed back cut open and ravaged.
    “Your sins are the worst of all, Rosie. They’re the ones hidden by a beautiful face. It’s the rot that festers on the inside.”
    Our eyes met and Rosie’s eyes narrowed as though she were able to read my mind.
    Oh the things I wished I could do to her.
    “You’re asking forgiveness for your wickedness. You’re cleansing your soul,” Reverend Miller explained, his hand still shaking. The cane still ready to strike.
    My body hummed, anticipating the moment when he’d hit me again. Ready and waiting.
    “Then cleanse my soul, Reverend,” I responded acidly.
    Where was this coming from? Rosie snickered but I ignored her.
    “Perhaps, Leslie, it’s time you dealt the penance,” Reverend Miller suggested.
    “Me?” Mother asked, rising to her feet. Her face was light, so light, as though offered the sun.
    Reverend Miller held out the cane. “Yes. You have to atone for your own sins as well. Administer the cane. Pray for forgiveness.”
    Mother reached for the cane, her hands trembling. I began to shake as well. Tears fell and I couldn’t stop them.
    “No,” I breathed, barely able to find my voice.
    Not Mother.
    Not this!
    Mother came and stood behind me, looking down at my battered, bleeding back, a strangely tender expression on her face.
    “Please,” I mouthed.
    Don’t do it.
    I won’t survive it.
    Her voice rose like a chant while Rosie grinned in the corner, enjoying every moment of this new depraved form of abuse.
    Mother’s hand wielding my torment destroyed me in a way I hadn’t expected.
    It was so much worse than everything that had come before it.
    So much worse.
    “Heavenly Father, take this child into your arms. Bless her. Bless me. Show me compassion as I try to find salvation. As I attempt to lead this abomination towards your holy light. Purge the evil from her body. Purge this sin from my soul.”
    And then she hit me.
    She hit me, and she hit me some more.
    Over and over again.
    I sobbed with every strike. I had never cried before. All the while Reverend Miller had abused my body, I had maintained my crumbled pride.
    No this time.
    Not with Mother’s