5. Cain
CAIN
Thick globs of mud rained down on me from above as my classmates helped carry out Pastor John’s instructions to bury me and several others alive in the middle of a torrential downpour.
I should have known today was going to go to shit, because Pastor John had been in far too good a mood to be trusted.
The mud coated the entirety of my torso, submerging me further into the ground.
If I lost my shit now, I’d only be punished in some worse way, though I wanted to fucking scream and claw my way out.
Several others had and ended up strung up on a cross until dawn as their punishment.
I didn’t feel like joining them. What I wanted to do was grab one of those shovels out of my classmates’ hands and whack Pastor John across the face with it. I wanted to bury him with it.
It was a sick fuck who thought burying kids as a test of faith would be a good idea.
This theology class was run more like a bootcamp for Jesus, always placing us in extreme survival situations that flooded our nervous system with adrenaline and conditioned our brains to become compliant.
They molded us into their own personal religious soldiers, intent on terrorizing us.
Trying to make us apart of God’s Army, as if that was something an all-powerful celestial being needed.
“Dig, sinners!” Pastor John yelled as a flash of lightning tore across the sky. I counted one, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, until the ground shook with the rumble of thunder.
Soon, the mud was caked up to my chin and the panic I’d been fighting off took hold. It made the muscles in my limbs vibrate while my breath came in short, desperate pants. They wouldn’t really bury us alive. Would they?
“Lean not on your own understanding!” Pastor John yelled into the wind. “In all your ways!! Acknowledge Him! If you’re feeling scared, give it to the Lord!”
“Yes, sir!” We called back. But the action of opening my mouth to respond caused the mud to enter, making me cough.
I spit it out as best I could, but my tongue was left with a fine coating that tasted of wet earth.
I had to fight back the urge to vomit. If I did, I’d probably drown in it.
The pressure of the rain and mud held me captive in this makeshift grave.
I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out.
They wanted us to face our fears and lean on our faith, but I had none to spare.
Any faith I might have had, was stripped from me the moment I saw just how depraved these men and this place were.
They presented themselves as the epitome of morality yet had no problem traumatizing people for their own twisted pleasure.
“Now, pray for your salvation!” He called out.
“Our father, who art in heaven!” We yelled, screaming the Lord’s Prayer into the storm. More mud was heaped upon me, so much that it was getting harder to see and even more difficult to breathe.
But when I opened my eyes, Delilah stood above me. An angel in a sea of chaos.
Lightning streaked across the sky behind her, tearing open the dark clouds. My words came out louder and with more conviction as I stared up at her, trying to decipher that stricken look on her face. Was she scared for me? Worried that she would be put in the earth next?
Whatever it was, grounded me until the dirt covered my body completely, and I was swallowed up by the dark. Breath escaped me. My lungs were crying out for air, but all I found was dirt. I had been buried alive. Those bastards actually did it. And I’d taken it. I hadn’t fought back.
Time ticked by. I wasn’t sure if it was seconds or minutes, but eventually, rough hands hoisted me out of the grave to my relief. If I had stayed down there any longer, I would have broken. Or fucking died.
Chunks of wet mud heaved themselves out of my mouth as I vomited into the grass. Shivers wrapped around my body and an immediate relief nestled into my cold, clammy skin.
Others weren’t as lucky as I was, and had to be carried into the building looking unconscious. I wondered if we’d ever see them again.
“For those of you who leaned on the Lord, you passed our test and will be receiving an hour of free time. For those that didn’t, you’ll be subject to more testing until your faith is so strong that nothing will shake you!
” Pastor John looked like the ominous figure he was in a black slicker and combat boots, as if he were commanding cadets at a military base and not molding the minds of teenage students.
“Alright, let’s head inside. Get yourselves cleaned up before your next class,” Pastor Big C said, ushering us all into the building.
It was a miracle that no one was struck by lightning with how hard the storm was coming down.
I’m sure they’d write it off as an accident and sweep it under the rug like they did with everything else.
There was no justice to be had when you could buy yourself a desired outcome.
Any complaints about this school were always squashed quietly and quickly.
I rushed into the boy’s showers, cleaning off the thick mud that coated itself all over me. It sloughed off in chunks, obstructing the drain, but I didn’t give a shit. My anxiety felt bone deep and it took every ounce of energy I had not to completely lose my ever-loving mind back there.
We’d been put through hell at this school, but being buried alive like that nearly crumpled my reserve. If I hadn’t seen Delilah’s face when I did, I probably would have been hanging up on a fucking cross with the rest of the class that tapped out.
“What do you think of the new girl?” A distant voice asked, their words echoing off the tile.
“Oh, hot as fuck. I’d do her in a second,” another voice replied.
“She looks like she’d be a screamer. And those fucking tits,” whoever it was moaned loudly and was met with a chorus of laughter.
I was in no fucking mood for this. White hot anger sparked in my chest and before I knew it, I found the fucker that was laughing at Delilah’s expense and made a home in his face with my fist.
He went down hard and I looked around the group of guys who had gone deathly still.
“You don’t talk about her like that,” I said, shaking so violently I could feel the vibration all the way down to my toes.
“Fuck, man. Calm down. It was just a joke,” the guy on the floor, whose name I think was Thatcher, said. He had a red welt across his cheek from where I’d hit him.
“Did I not make myself clear, or did you need me to make the message clearer?” I said, my voice taking on a cadence of danger that I didn’t recognize. It sounded like my father and that fucking scared me.
“Fuck, yeah, okay,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.
I stalked away, grabbing a clean towel on my way out. That anger though was still so palpable under my skin. I felt like I could explode at any moment.
I don’t know what it was that made me snap like I did.
Maybe it was the pent-up frustration of not being able to fight against Pastor John like I wanted to and how it reminded me of all the torture I’d endured in my own family.
Or the fucked-up way I had just been buried alive.
But hearing those creeps talk about Delilah like that was the last damn straw.
Maybe I couldn’t control what happened to me, but I’d be damned if I just sat by letting them talk about Delilah as if they had a right to.
She deserved so much better than any of us could offer her.
When I’d exited the locker room, Delilah was waiting for me. Her big blue eyes searched my face and whatever she found there made the crease between her brows deepen.
“I’m fine,” I said, the lie falling easily from my lips. It was one that I’d become used to telling even myself.
“No, you’re not,” she said plainly, and I stopped in my tracks.
“Delilah, are you calling me a liar?” I asked.
She looked me up and down, her gaze landing on my lips for a moment and then flicking back up to my eyes. “Absolutely. There’s no way you can be after that.”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Well, you caught me out then.” I sounded more clipped than I cared to, but she was skating dangerously close to a nerve I didn’t think I could handle being poked right now.
She raised her eyebrows at my words and pursed her lips. The simple motion stirred something inside me, and I flexed my hand, feeling the sting of that punch I’d landed earlier still vibrating in my bones. It was worth it. She was worth it.
This is what we did for each other, I realized.
We checked in when the world had gone to shit.
When Kingston had dragged us into a torment so deep and fucked-up, there was no way to know which way was up.
We were each other’s life rafts in a sea of shit.
It felt… different to have someone care about me enough to risk a punishment for waiting for me after class. Good different.
While I had scrubbed the dirt off my body, I could still feel the phantom weight of it like an invisible layer on my skin. Could feel the sediment under my nails and taste it on my tongue.
“We could do something about it, you know,” she said, voice so low that only I could hear.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“We could sneak into Pastor John’s office and rearrange his whole desk. You know how he likes to keep things just so.”
“You’re more diabolical than I realized,” I said, which only made her smile wide and turn those eyes of hers into shimmering blue pools of amusement. I liked that reaction. A lot.
“So? You in?”
Getting caught in his office was suicide, but I couldn’t say no to her. Not when she looked so eager. The way she focused in on me, waiting for my answer, flipped my stomach into knots. It made me want to give her anything she asked for. Even if it was stupid and dangerous.
“Hell yeah, I’m in.”