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    Amurehna

    Kidnapped by a Cult

    by , 02-25-2013 at 02:39 PM (837 Views)
    When the dream picks up I'm on a giant plane with a white haired man. He points down at a football field surrounded by a corn field. Even from here I can tell the football field is full of people. There's a designated spot for him to land, but he lands where the people are standing. They run out of the way, all the while cheering for his return.
    We're off the plane. He takes my arm and leads me forward, explaining his town to me. I'm not really listening, this place freaks me out. It's completely isolated, I remember my view from the plane and wonder where all these people live. He tells me that I'll be integrated into the community if God wills it. He has submitted my name to the marriage lottery and if I come up then, obviously, I'll marry the person God has chosen for me.
    All their activities are the Will of God, I think how perfect it must be for him. He could orchestrate everything and pretend it's the God's will. While I wasn't paying attention night has fallen. He leads me over to the ballot on the right side of the field where a wide wooden fence separates the playing area from the corn.
    "Let's take a look, see what God intends for you." He has his hand on the back of my neck. It's more of a threatening gesture than something that hurts. To everyone else it looks different, somehow that he's taking a fatherly interest in my future. There are scraps of paper with names on them beside a weathered slotted box. Someone has combined them on a list in black sharpie. I notice other people sitting around, they are a part of the community but also isolated. I recognize them as other captives, but they look dull eyed and complacent.
    I remember what the raid had been like. Our village of small wooden houses, how the mud felt underfoot as I tried to run, the creatures attacking us in the street. The buildings being on fire, all the smoke. Someone looming over me.
    The white haired man is talking to me about other towns he has taken, how many people he has integrated into his community.
    He pushes me forward to fence edge and makes me turn over the pages with names on them.
    I'm relieved to not see my name.
    "It seems God has other plans for you, my dear."
    I can't decide if the man has set it up this way, or if he truly submitted my name to the lottery and I was not chosen. I choose to see it as the latter. That Fate has saved me from the fell machinations of this man's faith.
    A woman comes up to us and tells him that THEY are here. He releases me and I move along the fence away from the creepy converts. Then I notice that 'they' are the press. They've set up cameras, all facing away from the converts/abducted and toward his community.
    I pretend I'm going to rejoin the others and run across the line of the cameras hoping that my family will see my face on the news and know that I didn't die in the raid.
    I return to the fence and nervously lean on it, hoping no one questions me. They don't. As I'm sitting there I lean back a little and it's like the corn was an illusion. I can see the wall of corn, but just beyond that is a city street. Almost like he wanted us to believe it was isolated so we wouldn't try to escape.

    There's a lapse in the dream and I'm driving. I've stolen a car. I know it won't be long before they discover I'm missing. There are very clear turn lanes and signs that are supposed to lead out of the town. I take the right hand turn, noticing the body of a man in the street that no one has bothered to move. He's clearly dead. I keep driving, taking the suggested turns. I find myself back on the street with the dead man.
    This obliterates my hope for escape, I realize I would just have to drive around until I found the way out, and I don't have the time.

    They've found me. They put me with the white haired man's son. He's meant to watch me. I don't know what they intend for me, but the man's son doesn't seem so bad. He doesn't crowd me, and the only rule is that I stay where he can see me and don't leave the apartment alone.
    "I'm sure you want to shower and change."
    I agree. He hands me a pile of clothing and a towel. It has a rainbow colored criss-crossing design.

    There's another lapse and I'm standing in a cool dark hallway in the apartment. From here I can see my the son, my watch dog. I look at a painting. It matches the towel.
    Except that it doesn't seem like a design choice. The repeated patterns makes me think there aren't any pattern -choices-, that is all there is. I think it's because this man decides who makes the art, it isn't about creativity anymore. The thought makes me sad.
    "Hey, you almost done?" The son asks me. I smile at him. I'm only wearing a red tank top and panties. They took my other clothes and didn't supply a pair of jeans.
    I ring my hair out and instead of drying my hand on the towel draped over my arm I go to the pile of towels by the sink and start to do it there. The son's face makes me stop, reminding me I have my own. He makes me feel...wasteful somehow.

    I've forgotten about escaping. I live in a house with the white haired man's son. When he's not looking I use a square post in the center of the living room to do some sort of arm exercise, it runs from ceiling to floor. I wrap my hands around the post and lift myself off the ground, knees to either side of the post. I think about how I'm not really the person I was when I was brought here.
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    Updated 02-25-2013 at 02:51 PM by 54746

    Tags: cult, kidnapped, towel
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