Page 62 of Letting Go

Instantly, I try to bolt. I don’t know where to run, but I'm going to. As I turn toward the open door just two feet away, he pushes me backward, slamming me into the doorjamb and my head makes another sickening crack.

This time, it’s sparks, not black spots.

There's the sound of rusted springs and hinges moaning and then he grabs me again and I don’t have the balance to run. I can barely put one foot in front of the other. My ear rings. I see what he's lifted. It's a cellar door.

My heart stops then stutters in my chest Not again … not again.

He's back to crooning Reed. "This ought to feel like home, luv." He sets my bag in a corner like he's hosting me.

I can’t panic. I can't. I have to stay clear, look at everything and make mental notes, but it’s all I can do to descend the short flight of stairs without falling. He goes first, with a hand tugging on my bound wrists.

It's dark and damp down here with a dirt floor and flagstone walls. There's a spot where concrete blocks were used later to shore up the northern wall. The whole place is maybe twelve by twelve and there are no windows. Reed reaches up and starts screwing in a light bulb. It sputters to life. The light is harsh, leaving large black, fathomless pits in his face where his eyes should be.

"You need to return to God," says Reed. "You need to return to me."

I can’t really see where I'm going, and I start to pitch forward as I get to the end. Reed catches me and eases me to the ground. The fact he just touched me makes me want to vomit.

Turning on a flashlight, he illuminates a narrow strip of foam on the floor next to the far wall. A bed. Just out of reach of the harsh naked light bulb.

"This must look familiar. right?"

There's a pail in the corner. For pee, I guess. A stand-up sink with a hose. One broken wooden chair. A bowl of apples. Everything looks ancient except the seven bottles of bottled water. With both arms, he pushes me so I'm standing under the light. It's nearly impossible to see him. My head swivels, trying to track his voice.

"You will be here a week. You will drink twelve ounces of water per day and eat an apple. This is a cleansing. I will return and we will have a discussion. If you continue to resist your calling, we will institute a second week."

My head is bleeding again, and I can feel it trickling down my forehead.

"Not going to speak, then?"

I say nothing. Do not engage is the first rule of survival.

He walks around me, surveying me and I can do nothing but shiver. I try hard to stop, but I can't. It's freezing down here. I stand still. The last thing I want is for him to think I'm looking for him.

"You've put on too much weight."

I keep staring straight ahead, refusing to engage.

"In order to truly understand Him, you have to sacrifice, and that sacrifice includes food. Those things you crave, those things you want, those things that you think feed your body, don't. Only God can feed your body. And you have to turn your body over to him."

"You mean over to you. That's never happening. You're incapable of love. You're incapable of loving anybody."

The slap across my face stung and for a moment I can't see. This is shocking. In all the years on the compound, he never struck me.

His voice rises. "You are being repatriated. You are living in a world of sin and fear. I am your only hope and your only salvation. Whatever you think you feel towards that man is a false love."

"That man"? Has he seen me with Bryce? Do not engage.

He pulls out his bible from his jacket pocket. I'd seen it many times. Black, worn, with his name embossed. Then I take another look. It’s new. With my name on it.

"This is for you. I want you to sit in that chair," he says. "Please sit in the chair." His voice is soothing, almost sweet.

I sit in the chair gingerly, balancing on the three legs.

"I want you to be fully present. I want you to tell me why you're here."

Do not engage.

Suddenly he grabs my hair and pulls my head back, up to where I have to look at him. The pain sears from where the door hit me and I'm afraid for a moment, I'll blackout.