Page 40 of These Eternal Bones
“There is nothing that could keep me away.”
20
Horribly Intoxicating Silly Creatures
Molly
My nostrils flare at the sharp metallic scent of burning metal, my heart raging in my chest that no amount of deep breathing will ease. Each lungful only serves to bring my attention back to this open field, the humming of my mothers and sisters as my brothers watch quietly on. I can feelhim, his eyes grazing across my flesh in the way that makes the hair on the back of my neck prick. My gut permanently soured. I was chosen.
And in three years’ time, it will be me preparing the next girl.
My knees shake under my ankle length dress. For a moment, I worry they’ll buckle and that he’ll see my doubt, my reservations. Although they matter little, nobody says no. Nobody would dare turn down Joseph, eventhinking his name feels like a sin. To say it out loud would be a damnable offense, an acceptance.
A welcoming for every tragic thing that will befall me next.
But it shouldn’t feel tragic.
I should be thankful.
I am not.
I raise my chin, steeling myself, although I tremble as the humming turns to prayer. His light, breezy voice rises above the mumbling. It’s not so much a request, nor thanks to God, but a vow, a vow to take what I am not ready to give.
There’s a fear burrowed so deep in my soul I worry I may never scrape it out.
But I shouldn’t be scared, not of one touched by God. Not by our leader, our father on earth. Another shaky breath leaves me as I try to remember their words, give the doubt to God. Let him steer my heart toward home. Follow in his grace. Keep quiet, keep sweet, obey.
My head goes light as I open my eyes, his voice beckoning me forward. His long, scratchy beard pulls up alongside his thin lips as they lift in a smile. His touch feels like acid on my skin, and for the life of me, I cannot fathom lying with him. A man who helped raise me, raise us all. I had always thought his title of father as a literal one, but now I am not so sure. Now I do not know if he is to be father or husband, the idea of both feels wrong.
But it is I who is perverse, my thoughts edged by the devil. My heart soured with my betrayal, my doubt.
“Come, my sweet child, today you shall receive your mark, the one that claims you as mine. The one that binds us in God's light, as is his divine plan.”
My hands shake as he lays my hand on the table, my eyes falling from him to the other dark scorch marks in the wood. His fingers are gentle but commanding as hespreads mine, his deep blue eyes flashing as he takes his time. His touch is slow as my head swirls, the world around me tilting and wavering, black dots blotting out the light.
I am not meant for you.
The thought comes unbidden, and already I hate myself for thinking it.
For Christ’s sake, Molly, stop thinking.
Turn it off.
This is his plan.
It’s fine.
Atone.
“Are you ready, Child of God?”
“Yes.” The word is shaky, unsure, and I’ve announced them out loud. Everyone’s eyes dig into me, peeling back my fleshy layers to bore down on my soul, adding to the weight of my sin.
I do not want this.
God, I do not want this.
It feels wrong.
