CHAPTER 27 - Noah Black
All the time
Like a fever
Like I'm burning alive, like a sign
Did I cross the line?
Wildflower – Billie Eilish
TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC SCENE OF SEXUAL ABUSE
PAST – NOAH’S BIRTHDAY
Today should be a day of celebration.
A day to rejoice because, according to them, this is the date God chose to bring me into the world, and I should be overflowing with gratitude.
They say turning eighteen is an important milestone in our family.
The passage into adulthood.
A new cycle beginning not just in my life, but in my parents’ lives too.
But I didn’t enjoy a single moment—I hated every minute of this hellish day.
Breakfast was filled with prayers, commandments, and readings about obedience.
Lunch was torture, surrounded by people I don’t even know.
And to make matters worse, dinner is in a few minutes.
The most anticipated celebration of all, because my uncle and cousin will be there.
They’re extremely religious—Joshua is actually a well-known pastor in our town.
I don’t like him.
There’s something different about the way he looks at me.
He makes my skin crawl whenever he gets close.
And he always, always repeats the same phrase to me:
The time will come when I will bring you closer to salvation.
That should reassure me, but for some reason I can’t explain, I feel a chill of fear every time he says those words.
I gaze out the window at the night and notice that, unlike recent days, the sky has refused to shine tonight.
Not a single star appeared.
The moon has vanished.
There are only dense, dark clouds signaling what I’m sure will be a storm.
I sigh, unable to explain why this absence of light unsettles me so much.
I let my thoughts drift to how I wished my birthday could be.
How perfect it would be with Bryan by my side.
We’d have breakfast in the next town over, like he promised me in one of our countless conversations.
Then we could go to the lake.
We’d spend the afternoon talking, enjoying each other’s company.
In the early evening, we’d drag ourselves to the bar where Maya works to grab something to eat, and maybe I’d try alcohol for the first time.
And to end it perfectly, we’d make love under the tree, in our favorite spot, with the moon as our witness.
That’s how I would have been happy, but it all stayed in my head, in my dreams, because with all the commotion at the mansion, Bryan couldn’t come see me.
He won’t be able to come until the early morning hours, and I’m counting down until the moment I can throw myself into his arms.
I close my eyes, remembering a few nights ago.
It was magical and so intense that, even with the fear and the strange sensations threatening to overwhelm me, I managed to relax and let go.
His patience, the tenderness of his touch, the gentleness in his voice, and the loving way he kept telling me he loved me as he filled me completely—it made me love him even more than I thought possible.
Our night together gave me the certainty that I can’t live without him.
Without our connection.
Without everything we’ve built.
What comforts me today is knowing that next year I’ll be far from this prison.
With him by my side.
Celebrating in Vegas.
Being happy.
Truly happy.
“Your uncle has arrived.” Sarah appears in the doorway with a cheerful smile, interrupting my thoughts. “Put on the dress and come down,” she orders.
She doesn’t wait for my response.
She never does.
She commands, I obey.
I sigh in irritation and walk to the closet.
Sarah gave me a white lace dress as a gift.
I hated it, but I thanked her anyway and agreed when she told me to wear it.
I spot the cell phone hidden among my underwear and feel the urge to check if he’s sent any messages, but I resist the impulse because if I take too long, they’ll come looking for me, and if they discover Tessa gave me this phone, things could get ugly for both of us.
I change clothes, look at myself in the mirror, and force a smile.
“It’s almost over,” I try to console myself. “When everyone goes to sleep, he’ll come see you and everything will be fine.”
I leave the closet and then the room.
As soon as I reach the top of the stairs, my uncle’s eyes land on me.
“Happy birthday, Noah Black,” he says.
Another thing I hate is how he always calls me by both names, as if he enjoys emphasizing that damn surname.
“Thank you,” I say as I step into the living room. “I thought Tilden was coming to dinner.”
I don’t like the kid, but I hate his father even more.
“Tonight it’ll just be me.” He stands and moves closer. “Just us.”
I don’t like the way he says it.
Gavin and Sarah stand up.
“Let’s have dinner,” my father calls. I wait for them to pass by me before following.
The table is set with excessive formality.
Multiple glasses, goblets, silverware, and plates—the kind they only use on special occasions.
None of my previous birthdays had this much pomp.
Gavin sits in his usual place at the head of the table.
Sarah across from me.
And for the first time, Joshua beside me.
“Today we celebrate not only Noah’s birthday, but her passage into adulthood,” my uncle begins, his voice heavy with pride. “Scripture teaches us that maturity comes with responsibilities before God. It’s time to leave girlhood behind and become an instrument of the Lord.”
The words shouldn’t hurt me, but they feel like they’re cutting into me.
Sarah claps softly, her face animated, and Gavin raises his glass.
“Let’s pray,” my father calls, and everyone at the table nods.
“Today is a day marked by heaven, for a daughter of the Lord crosses the portal of innocence and enters the path of maturity,” Joshua begins, hands raised and eyes closed.
“May the flesh be purified and obedience be total. May the servant offer herself without resistance, and may the blood remain sacred, within the lineage chosen by the Lord.”
My hands tremble against my thigh, and I shrink back a little.
He doesn’t sound like he’s blessing me—he sounds like he’s claiming me.
As if each word were a code.
May the servant offer herself without resistance.
What the hell did he mean by that? I wonder, but I keep quiet, because I figure it’s related to what Gavin has preached my whole life: obedience to the Lord’s words.
It’s probably some doctrine I’m supposed to follow, and I already hate it before even knowing what it is, yet I don’t question it.
I just want this to end soon so I can go to my room.
“Amen…” they say in unison.
“Amen…” I whisper, swallowing hard.
Joshua opens his eyes and locks them on me—too intense for an uncle.
A shiver runs down the back of my neck, and I shrink into my chair.
“Noah Black, tonight marks the beginning of your calling. The obedience you’ve demonstrated throughout your life will be put to the test, and the Lord expects you not to resist.”
Obedience. Test. Not resist.
The words dance inside my head like pieces of a code I can’t decipher, but instinctively know means nothing good for me.
This God I’ve spent my life believing in isn’t a good God.
I’d already questioned this, but after meeting Bryan, I became certain that nothing my family preaches is right.
Bryan often says it’s sick and that they’re fanatics.
I can’t disagree—besides spending my life locked inside this house, I’ve experienced firsthand all these years the madness my parents worship.
The meal begins and we all stay silent, but I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, and I don’t like being watched.
The food starts to taste different, as if my mouth suddenly doesn’t recognize the seasoning.
Chewing becomes harder than it should be, and with each forkful, a strange weight builds on my tongue.
I bring the glass of juice to my lips, trying to wash it away, but instead of helping, the heaviness spreads through my body, leaving my muscles sluggish and slow.
My vision blurs in short intervals—the dining room fading for seconds, then snapping back.
I try to breathe deeply, but the air feels too thick, and the room spins almost imperceptibly.
I grip the silverware tightly, trying to stay present, but my fingers slip from the metal as if they don’t belong to me.
An uncomfortable heat courses through my body, and my head feels so heavy I have to force myself to hold it up.
Even so, my body freezes when I feel a calloused hand touch my thigh.
I choke on the juice I just brought to my lips and look to the side.
Joshua smiles, frightening malice in his expression.
His hand creeps upward, sliding over the lace of my dress.
Panic shoots through me, and in a desperate impulse, I shove the chair back, making the tableware rattle from the sudden movement.
“What do you think you’re doing, Noah?” Gavin growls, and I stare at him.
“Are you feeling the weight of the anointing, dear?” Joshua asks, and my heart races.
There’s something strange about the dinner.
In me.
I blink, trying to focus my vision.
“C-can I go to the bathroom?” My voice comes out shaky. “I’m not feeling well.”
Gavin folds his hands on the table, and for a moment I think he’s going to say no, like he always does—I’m not allowed to leave the table before him—but to my complete surprise, he smiles.
“Go, daughter, and retire if you need to!” His voice is soft and, I dare say, gentle.
It’s terrifying.
I turn and head toward the stairs.
I grip the handrail, realizing my legs feel like they’re carrying ten times my weight.
I stumble into the bedroom, then into the closet.
I fumble through the underwear drawer, and when my hands find the phone, I turn it on.
I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to will the nausea away, but it doesn’t help at all.
When the screen lights up, I open the messaging app.
Noah: Love help me. Somethings wrong with me. Im scared.
I send the message and let the phone drop into the closet.
I hold onto the shelves to keep from collapsing along with it.
The room spins and I try to walk.
When I step out of the closet, I hear a click.
Facing the door, I hold my breath—my uncle is standing there, the door closed behind him.
“Wh-what…” I blink repeatedly, “…are you doing here?” I manage to ask, leaning against the wall.
God, what’s happening to me?
“I came to bring you closer to salvation,” he responds, taking a step forward, and I shake my head.
A sickening expression spreads across his face.
I stumble forward, trying to reach the door, but he grabs me.
His touch sends waves of agony through me.
“Resistance is the voice of the enemy, so just surrender and let me do what the Lord has instructed me since your birth.”
Joshua catches me when my body sways.
I try to free myself from his arms, but my head is heavy, and then I feel the mattress against my back.
“The Lord showed me it would be like this,” he murmurs, his eyes burning into me. “Your dinner wasn’t just a normal meal. It was the preparation. The sleeping of the flesh so the spirit may awaken.”
He smiles, and even caught between reality and agony, I understand that something was put in my food and drink.
Panic begins to seep through every particle of my being.
“B-” I try, but my tongue tangles and he frowns at me.
His hand slides down my neck, descending over my collarbone to the fabric of my dress.
I try to push him away, but my arms are weak, useless.
He brings his face closer, his hot wine-soaked breath making me recoil.
“Don’t fight, Noah. The Lord has already decided.” His hands pin mine above my head and his body presses down on mine.
Tears stream down my face.
I feel my body betray my mind, yielding to the sedation, drifting further from consciousness with each passing second.
When hands begin to move up my legs, a shock runs through my skin and panic overwhelms me—not only from the contact, but from finally understanding what he’s going to do to me.
I try to find the strength to scream, but I can’t open my mouth.
My fingers touch his rigid chest and I try to push, but he doesn’t move—or maybe I no longer have the strength to push him away.
The brightness of the room begins to burn my eyes from the effort of keeping them open.
Everything becomes a blur as I feel unwanted touches everywhere.
Unrecognizable, distant murmurs reach my ears.
A bitter taste coats the roof of my mouth.
Then a searing pain between my legs.
I can’t name it without making it seem smaller than it is.
It’s something that tears me apart inside and corrodes me outside.
It’s a sensation so overwhelming that I’m certain I’ll never be the same again.
I try to push, I writhe, I dig my nails into something, but everything is fading away.
Becoming distant.
Until the only thing I can see and feel is darkness.