Like most of my friends growing up, I was born into the congregation of Eden. It was all we ever knew; our little haven tucked away in the Appalachian mountains away from the evils of the secular world. And also like my friends, it never even occurred to me to leave. Why would I? We all knew that leaving meant forsaking not only our families and friends but the safety of our eternal souls. It went without saying that when one left there was no coming back. A spot in Eden was a gift, and to rebuke that gift was to rebuke God himself.
I say that not to try to convince or gain sympathy, but rather to provide some understanding of the mindset I was living with; the mindset we were all living with. Even after months of a process my therapists refer to as deprograming, I still lose sleep at night, worrying about what might be waiting for me after I die. Eternal bliss is a hard idea to walk away from.
When I look back, I suppose that I first noticed the cracks in the foundation of my faith one day after leaving our daily Mass. Father Riley, our leader in both the spiritual and practical, had just concluded a sermon focusing on the importance of repentance and cleansing one’s soul now.
“Judgment may come sooner than you could ever believe,” he had said.
Something in the tone of his voice rattled me. I felt a darkness weigh over me as he spoke, a darkness seemingly unfelt by my fellow parishioners. Unfelt, or perhaps ignored. It would not be until much later that I would recognize this moment as merely one of many steps in the escalation of rhetoric that Father Riley was subjecting us to.
After some time I was able to mostly forget about this feeling of darkness and return to the mundane nature of my daily life. But the darkness soon returned, bubbling up through my subconscious like some foul gas in a bog. This darkness stemmed from one idea. One idea so scandalous, so antithetical to everything that I knew that I could not even put the idea into words at that time. Instead, that idea existed in me only as an amorphic fog that clouded my mind. That idea was simply, what if Father Riley is wrong?
At the same time my internal world was deteriorating, my external one was not faring much better. The sermons had changed at some point. Before, Father Riley had a concerned demeanor. This concern had turned to anger. Anger that we were not yet pure, anger that we could not escape the clutches of sin. We were pushed to work more, to sleep less. All in the name of cleansing our souls.
One day at the height of a particularly impassioned sermon, Father Riley said, “Machinations are at work beyond your comprehension. Rats scurry about, plotting. The outside world seeks to bring me down, to guarantee our failure. I fear that they are amongst us already, poised to strike.”
This last point had the effect of drastically shifting the attitude of the congregation. People grew suspicious of one another. A few even did the unthinkable and left Eden, to the scorn of those who remained. Families had begun to split over whether to stay or leave.
All the while, my own internal darkness continued to grow. I became depressed, and felt unable to cope with the rising external pressures within the community. I fell behind in my duties, and this did not go unnoticed. People grew leery of me, believing me to be doubting Father Riley and insufficiently committed to his visions. I suppose that they were right, though at the time I denied these accusations even to myself.
All of this boiled over one day during Mass.
“It has been no secret that there are betrayers in our midst,” Father Riley’s booming voice echoed through the church. “But our Lord, in all of His infinite wisdom, has revealed them to me. I can tell you this; Judas is among us. But fear not, for they will become our salvation.”
A tense hush spread over the entire congregation. The candles on the altar covered in cloth behind which Father Riley spoke could be heard flickering softly. My blood ran cold as Father Riley’s eyes fell on me.
“Restrain him,” he said.
Suddenly my arms were seized by the two men on either side of me, two men I had once considered friends. I writhed like a trapped animal to no avail as the men pulled me towards the front of the church. My yells echoed throughout the otherwise silent church as the rest of the congregation watched.
The two men slammed me onto the altar and pinned me there. I turned my head towards Father Riley. A flash of metal escaped from the folds of his robes. He approached me with a small dagger in hand. He turned to the congregation.
“My children,” he yelled, “Judas was the betrayer. But our Lord works in mysterious ways. For it is through that betrayal that we were brought salvation through Christ’s crucifixion. In a way, Judas led to our salvation. So too shall he today.”
Father Riley grabbed my hair, baring my neck outwards towards the congregation. Some were standing now, banging on their pews and yelling in a frantic fervor. Others merely looked at the floor, unable to watch but even more unable to intervene. A handful of people were sobbing.
Father Riley made the sign of the cross before moving to bring the dagger to my neck. Bracing my upper body on the altar, I lashed out with both of my legs at the hand holding the dagger. In a blink the dagger plunged into his robes with a horrible squelching noise. The Father stumbled backwards. The rage was gone from his eyes, replaced with shock. He reached to the altar to steady himself, knocking over the candles seated upon it. They fell to the floor and the flames caught hold of the thick cloth draped over the altar. The small candle flames grew as they began to creep up the altar.
For a brief moment the two men holding me were in shock. Feeling their grips loosen ever so slightly, I was able to yank my arms free. I shoved over the altar, and the men jumped back as flames swirled through the air. The congregation wailed as I barreled through the wooden doors at the back of the church.
I never even dared to turn around as I ran through the woods. I heard shouting behind me, but this shouting grew more and more distant as I ran deeper into the woods. I ran until my heart was going to burst, stopping only for a moment when the shouting had completely disappeared before taking off again. I continued on through the woods for some time, tearing my clothes on branches as I went.
I was still on the move when night came. Lit only by the moon, I finally came upon a small roadside diner. The servers took one look at me before asking if I needed them to call the police. I could only nod feebly as they led me to a booth to sit down. A nearby television droned on softly as I waited, holding my face in my hands.
“Police are still on the search for a fugitive they believe is connected to the murder and arson that took place earlier today at a nearby religious commune,” the man on the television said.
My head still in my hands, I sobbed softly as I heard the sirens of police cars outside the diner.