Page 11 of Kandie Shoppe

Both of us have been going off nothing but fear and rage from the moment the police captured us and took us to our uncle’s home.

Kerania, resorting to her firebug ways, has tried to burn their house down three times. The last time was the final straw, with our aunt turning us over to the state while my uncle was out of the country. Seems like she has been reporting our antisocial behavior all along. There is no way she could just do that overnight. Instead of giving us to our grandparents Mama and Pa-Pete like they’ve been asking, she put us in the system with no one on my dad’s side of the family the wiser.

My parents may have mental health challenges, but she is pure evil. The sheer animus she has for my parents goes far beyond anything like simple jealousy. The fact that she and my mom used to be friends seems unreal.

“Don’t worry. You know we can fashion tools out of anything. Look.” She nods to the corner of the window. “That nail looksloose.” It didn’t, but it would only take her half an hour to get it out knowing Kerania.

“I know they probably count the utensils.” She nods at my words. “But I bet they won’t mind us wanting to clean.”

“Yeah, but they know our history. We got to seem like we don’t want to do it, like normal kids.” We nod together. It’s one of those things we do — silently communicate. We can’t read each other’s mind and we stopped finishing each other’s sentences and forgot the language we only spoke to each other a long time ago. That doesn’t mean she isn’t the other part of my soul.

“We got this.” She presses her closed fist close to me.

“Yeah, we do. Wonder twins activate.”

Just so happens we don’t have it, not even a little bit.

Six MonthsLater

Drip.Drip. Drip. It’s cold and dank down here. My skin is clammy and the smock shift dress that is our uniform is hanging off me. Rubbing my lips together, they feel like the tissue paper mom used to stuff in gift boxes. The corners of my mouth are cracked and bleeding. They like to pretend they forget to feed or water us. But that’s not it. They want us starving and thirsting. It makes it easier to break us.

Always the plumper of the twins, I always prided myself on being Daddy’s little butterball. I’m not that anymore, neither is Kerania. I can’t tell which one of us is having it worse. Them starving me or them beating her.

We stay getting in trouble. If we aren’t stirring up insurrection as the bishop calls it, we are defying the will of God by not yielding to his tenants. Only those aren’t the Lord’s tenants, but this sick, evil, so-called man of God’s. I wonder what Aunt Natalia would think if she knew she handed us over to a cult. Like a real life honest to goodness cult. One that preys upon kids and sells them to the highest bidder.

Bishop Smith says we are supposed to sanctify ourselves with marriage, only these aren’t marriages. Twelve-year-old girls can’t get married. And the older girls can’t either. This state may be backwards, but this is true for anyone. Esme, the girl they brought from Haiti, says it’s illegal there too. Not to mention the dozens of Latina and Hispanic girls they have down here in this basement that is actually used as a prison.

We are all caged in small cells like those you see at an animal shelter, only no one would treat a dog like this and get away with it.

And dogs. I ain’t never hated a dog so bad as when they sic’d one on us the first time we tried to escape, and it bit Kerania, leaving huge bite marks on her legs. I know it’s not its fault, but I’ll tell Daddy when we see him again, he can get me anything but a dog.

“Hey.” The urgent whisper has me turning to the sound of my sister’s sweet voice.

“Hey, yourself.” My voice sounds like I was forced to swallow acid. It may as well have been. They purge me every other day when I refuse to comply with the bishop’s wishes. The first time I thought I was getting a reprieve. They bathed and fed me. The food lacked seasoning, but I didn’t care. I was so hungry. Afterward, they dressed me in a pretty dove gray dress and took me to Bishop Smith’s office. I should have known better. His son was over by the reception area while he called me over to his desk.

It was surreal to see him sitting behind the desk with his penis out, looking like a red and purple eel. I threw up right then all over his nasty self. They brought me right back here and put a muzzle on my mouth. They keep trying. Once or twice a week they march me past the vacant face boy making me kneel so I can be consecrated. He actually got it in my mouth once, and I tried my best to bite that motherfucker off. That’s when the purging began. They force me to throw up. They want to break me, but they are only making me angrier.

I’ve only seen Kerania sporadically since they have been keeping me down here and keeping her in line until she finds a way to escape again. She passed along a message saying there is an older boy from the outside that visits. He found her in the woods one day when she was out hiding the stash of things we’d stolen for our next escape. She says at first he didn’t believe her but now he does and he’s going to help us, but only us. Anyone else is too risky.

“Look what I have.” Opening her hand, she shows me a bloody key. Looking up, I see sheer malicious glee lighting her eyes.

“What did you do?” Scrambling over to her, I press my head to the bars, the cold metal not bothering me. I’m seeing my sister for the first time in months.

“I killed that bitch, and we are about to burn this motherfucker down. We’re having an uprising. C’mon,” she urges, slipping the key into the lock.

“There’s a way out the rear.” She starts leading me out the back where there’s a hatch I never noticed before.

“Wait.” I tug her arm, halting her. “What about them?” I nod to the other kids locked in the cages.

“I’m coming back, but I need to get you out of here first,” she assures me. “I’m coming back.” She can tell I don’t believe her. My sister doesn’t care about anyone but me. She’s told me thatthousands of times. “I promise,” she says, her voice cracking. “I see what they do to them. I ain’t letting anymore kids go through that. But you’re too weak to help me. No, come on.” She drags me, stressing the last word.

Following her, I can only pray that she keeps her word.

“Stay here, I’ll be back.” She says when we make our way over the woods bordering the property. I already see the smoke billowing from the north side of the building.

“Hey, be careful,” I croak out.

“Don’t worry. We started it on that side for a reason.” She winks. “While they put it out, the kids can escape. I love you, wildcat.”

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