Page 35 of Working Out West

“Move, and it will be worse,” Mom said from my side.

“Stop,” I grated.

Dad tsked. “Not until you’re cleansed.”

They started praying as I felt something sharp dig into the opposite side of my back from where Mom stood leaning over me. The throbbing sting grew across my whole back. I cried out and thrashed, but it didn’t stop.

Glancing to the side, I caught the glint of a sharp knife.

She was cutting my skin open.

“Stop, stop, please.”

She didn’t.

Another slice had me tearing more skin on my wrists as I tried to get away, tried to fight. Still, their voices grew louder with their prayer. It wasn’t until my mom reached my lower back that she stepped away.

“We cut the sins away.” She moved to the bench, and I heard the clatter of the knife even over my heavy breaths and sobs. “We cleanse through the wounds, purging you for the evil deeds you have done.”

She turned with another jug in her hands.

“No, no, no,” I whimpered. I thrashed and screamed, but nothing I did helped. Nothing.

Shaking my head, I begged over and over, but she didn’t stop. She tipped the jug’s contents over my back.

I roared as my skin sizzled. There was nothing but blistering agony until the blackness took me.

Only I wasn’t gone long. I woke screaming when a new scorching heat touched my back.

“He’s awake,” I heard Mom say.

A foot to my ribs rocked me to the side, and I blinked through the tears to see Dad standing there holding a bright red, burning branding iron with a cross on it.

I curled into myself whimpering, crying, realizing he’d just seared it into my skin.

“You will be cleansed after we repeat this every night for a week,” Mom said.

I shook my head.

Mom crouched beside me. “This is good for you, West. God will see the lengths you’ve gone to be admitted into Heaven. He will welcome you with open arms. We’re doing this for you.”

“F-Fuck you,” I managed through what felt like a throat full of razor blades.

“Respect your mother,” Dad yelled.

“Fuck you too.”

“Harold, leave him. We knew it would take time after the evil things he’s done.” With that, they walked out of the room and left me in agony on the dirty floor. Their son.

No. I wasn’t their son. They weren’t my parents. They never would be again.

I wasn’t evil. I was a fucking human being who had been put through hell. I couldn’t move, couldn’t lift my head. I couldn’t do anything but breathe and cry through the pain.

Please, God, if you’re listening, help me or take me away from here. Please.

Chapter Nine

Adrik

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