Chapter Text
white sheep
prologue/chapter one
“who are you when you aren't performing?” Is a question I ask myself constantly. It's my way of keeping myself grounded in reality, to remind myself that I'm not like my family. If I was like them, I would have no remorse for sacrificing people. I would smile at dead bodies and then go on as if nothing had happened. I would groom kids into thinking that this shit is normal.
I wish I had escaped earlier, then maybe I would've lived a semi-normal life. Instead, I sit as the days pass and the people get worse.
—
Sitting on the window seat in my room, I hear distant voices of my family. They're talking about my uncle, and how sick he's been lately. I feel horrible for him, because he's been our leader for decades. Now I just have to watch as he wastes away. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about him laying in bed, slowly dying. My cousin, Suture, will take over after his death. I'm honestly not sure Suture is a good fit for being our leader, but I have no say.
Getting up from the window seat, I sigh quietly and go towards my closet. I rummage through the mess of clothes on the floor and on hangers, and settle on a black turtleneck dress and pair of black tights. Afterwards, I open my door and walk to the kitchen, where I see what feels like a hundred people there.
Walking towards my mother, I tug on her sleeve and ask what's going on. She pats my head and smiles, going on about how we have new sacrifices for Hereseph today. I nod and walk away, heading to the dining room and slipping on my loafers. I know I'm gonna get my hands bloody today, as everyday when we have a sacrifice to make, so I walk to the bathroom and slide on a pair of black gloves. Walking back into the kitchen, I stand next to my mother and zone out for a while.
I have no clue what happened in the 20 or so minutes I was zoned out, and I only focus when my mother taps on my shoulder fervently. Looking up at her, I listen intently as she informs me of what will happen today. We, meaning me, will kill a man today. This will be my first sacrifice, as I've recently turned 15. I'm not as excited as I thought I'd be, honestly. I'd been looking forward to this moment up until a few months ago.
—
‘This is so surreal’, I think to myself as I take the knife to his throat. I don't even know this man's name. I'm so scared and I can't move. This is normal. This is so normal it's like breathing, but now I can't bring myself to do the honors. To kill him by myself would mean that I have officially killed somebody. I have taken a life.
My mother stares at me with her usual piercing gaze and yells. She tells me to hurry and get on with it, and that it isn't that serious. “If you truly love hereseph, you will sacrifice this man for him!” She screams into my ear. I wince at her proximity and how loud she's being, as I whimper out a “sorry”.
I insert the knife into his neck and slice deep. I see the blood pour and spurt out of his neck and listen to his gurgled, distorted weeping. I lower the knife down to the center of his chest, and plunge it in. Looking at the mess I had made of this man, I can do nothing but shake. I can't believe I did that. My mother yells into my ear again “Finish what you came here to do!”. And so I oblige. I drop the knife to the floor, and take my finger to his neck, gathering some blood from it. I lift his hair off of his forehead and draw a heart.
I look towards my mother and meet her gaze. She's smiling so brightly, it's as if I graduated or something. I technically did, as I've now become a woman according to the teachings of Hereseph. My mother rushes over to my bloodied form and hugs me tightly. She beams about how much I've grown in the past few years, and how I need to have a child soon. I honestly don't listen to what she's saying past that. I'm too shaken up to act as if nothing had happened. I'm disgusting. Or, is god disgusting?
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