Escaping a Cult

​“You ever wonder where we would be if we stayed?”

“Stayed?” said Flower, curiously looking over the roof of the car at her sister.

Earth twiddled a blonde dreadlock around a ringed finger. “Yeah, in the community?”  

“Yeah, I think about it all the time,” snapped Flower, irritation in her voice. She hung up the pump and tightened the gas cap until it made a loud click. “We would each have fifteen kids by now, be milking cows at the crack of dawn every day, bible study at seven am, and not a minute later or we would get the belt, and the teaching our little brothers and sisters the prophecies of the Book of Daniel four hours a day.”

Earth smiled. “And don’t forget, standing on street corners telling everyone that if they didn’t welcome God into their lives, they would burn in hell.”  

Flower put her arm around Earth, her bangles jangling on her wrist. “Let’s grab some snacks for the road.”

The warm desert breeze blew sand across the concrete courtyard of the gas station. The jagged hills of Red Rock Canyon lay off to the west, surrounding the sinners and evil prophets of Las Vegas. Or at least that’s what they were taught by Father Gabrial. A modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah, he would tell them.  

Earth gathered her favorite candies and chips in her arms, as if she were prepping for a coming zombie apocalypse. Flower browsed a bookstand of sci-fi comics and romance novels. Books were a new and fascinating thing for her, after being raised to believe the only book, she ever needed was the Word of God. And all others were the works of the devil.

Flower noticed herself on a TV screen. A security camera panned around the shop. A memory of their time in the community pricked at her subconscious: mysterious noises at night, rumors of hidden cameras, and being monitored, spied on, and controlled.  

“You ever worry about our siblings?” said Flower, jarring Earth from her thought. Saving her from the memory. The hell.  

“Of course I do! Why would you ask that?” She grabbed a gallon of water from a nearby shelf.

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “It sometimes bothers me that we left them there.”

Flower sighed. “But what could we do, Earth?” Her voice rose slightly, laced with annoyance and doubt. A man in a cowboy hat near the fridge glanced at her and then back at the beers. She took Earth by the arm and led her to the checkout. “We had an opportunity to flee, and we did. And I pray that one day when they are older, they can choose to do the same.”

They got back in the car; the door squeaked as Earth go in the front seat. Flower started the car.

“Miss?” called a voice. “You forgot this,” said a man holding a gallon of water. He leaned into the passenger window and placed it on the empty seat.