Standing in the aisle between the pews of the church I listened as the choir sang songs of our savior. Though I'd been here countless times in my life, the air in the old cathedral-like building felt heavier than usual. The walls felt as though they were closing in, and while trying to steady my breath I began to accept my fate.
This is the end of my life.
I was brought back into reality by the booming voice of our Pastor, Pastor Winsor, as he began the speech that marked the beginning of the annual ceremony that I was now a seemingly proud part of. I had heard the speech fourteen times before; I had all but memorized each line and influx in his voice and found myself fading in and out of focus as I began to look at my surroundings closer. The most prominent feature being the long blonde hair of the girl in front of me, dressed in the same white, nightgown-like clothing that I and the rest of my class, who stood with us in the line down the center of the church, were wearing. The girl's name was Annalise, one of the few people I didn't get along with in my class. I had long since avoided her contact after countless rude interactions in elementary school, but from my distanced observation her attitude and sense have entitlement have only gotten worse over the years. The ironic thing is I would give anything at this point to go back to that time in elementary school where she would pull at my hair and call me names if it meant I wouldn't have to face what was about to happen.
I looked to my right to see my family, sitting elegantly in the pews above on the second floor of the large church. Each one had a look of superiority etched across their face, though knowing them personally I knew which of the expressions were more faked then others. I could see my little brother Samuel fidgeting all the way from my place in line on the ground floor as he tried his best to stay still, not wishing to anger my mother, who would be damned if her children were to embarrass her in church. I looked to her next and felt my chest become tight. She sat next to my dad, whose black suit matched his hair, apart from the gray streaks starting to emerge from both age and stress. Her hands were folded perfectly in her lap, her brown hair pulled back in a high bun, a looked of pride and disgust covered her face as she mentally scoffed at the fact one of her children had to be in such close proximity to the unclean ones. She had whispered her complaints to me last year during my sister Nadia's ceremony, almost shouting in anger before calming herself down, whispering to herself how the unclean ones needed to be closer to the holy men during congregation, and the righteousness of this sacrifice of comfort. "For their salvation. For their salvation." I felt tears pool in my eyes as I thought of the shame she'll feel once the ceremony is over. I'm sorry mom.
I have pulled from my thoughts once again as Pastor Wilson reached the final portion of the speech, "It has been an honor to watch you all grow up, and it is with the deepest pleasure that I oversee your full acceptance into the faith we all so lovingly follow. However, some of you despite our best efforts may have been damned with the unholiest of curses. With this ceremony, your sins become known, and we shall truly see who is pure, and thus ready to enter the faith and those who have been made unclean. Bless you, all, and I wish to see you all enter into the church as holy followers of the Lord himself, clean and ready to serve thy God."
With the end of his speech came no applause, but instead, the steady and confident footsteps of my brother, Octavius, who has four years prior joined the church and had devoted himself to holy service. He was the child that made my parents proudest, even more so on the days where he assisted in the faith's holiest of ceremonies, much like today. My brother stood near a pool of water, waiting to call each 15-year-old child's name so he can assist them in being cleaned of their sins and reborn as part of the faith, one of the honors which my brother holds dearest.
He calls out the first name, "TYLER ANDREWS".
The timid brown-haired boy stepped slowly to the stage, stepping into the pool of water as my brother places a hand on his shoulder, says a blessing and dunks Tyler under. Within seconds he came up from the water and left the stage to sit at one of the front pews left empty for the newly purified church members as the congregation clapped joyfully.
This continued on for some time, and with each passing induction, I felt myself become more and more anxious. I know that within the next few minutes my life would change forever. Would my family abandon me, ashamed of the monster they've created? Maybe they'll let me stay in the house and help out like Dorothy. I looked over to my left to see the little old lady that I had grown so fond of over the years. She sat alone as she was our only help and she was of course not allowed to sit with the family that she served. Her only company was my baby brother, Winston, coddled in her chest with a floating bottle in his mouth, accredited to Dorothy of course. Her purple hat complemented her curled hair, and even from where I stood I could feel the warmth radiating from her wrinkled, but genuine smile.
"ELINORE HYDE" My name was called, and I started to make my way to the stage in front of me. Octavius's warm gaze met mine and I could feel the vines grow up my leg from under the nightgown I was wearing. I tried not to show how nervous I was, walking calmly up to the stage with my head held high, as my mother would say, "like any child should who comes from a family like ours." I got to the pool and pulled my nightgown up to step in, cautious as to not reveal the vines that I'm sure to have bloomed flowers growing from them at this point. I stood straight and stared ahead of me, sure to hold my head high both to honor my family and keep my fearful tears from falling down my face. The realization hit that this is the moment of truth the worry I had worked so hard to push back now came rushing back to me like a wave. My heart began to beat faster, my vision becoming fuzzy as did my focus from my brother's words as he blessed me. Oh, the irony. Soon, he had dunked me into the pool, fully immersing me in the water as I prayed to whatever God there is for me to have never existed.
I came up from the water, catching my breath as my vision started to uncloud as the water came down from my face. Though I had expected to here horrified gasps and cries my ears were only met with the same joyful claps the others before I had received. I looked to my brother, trying not to express the shock and confusion at the positive outcome I received, and with a beaming smile and nod of his head I was sent back to sit next to Annalise on the pews. Overjoyed I watched as Preston Jacobs, a small boy with kinky black hair and piercing blue eyes, entered the pool on the stage. I smiled, though extremely confused as to why I had not been marked as unclean and the blessing was said, and Preston's head was dunked.
Almost immediately the clear water turned black and cloudy, Octavius jumping back with a scream as his had was now stained. Preston rose from under the water and looked around the room to all the petrified and shocked faces, then to himself, who was covered head to toe in what looked to be watered down ink; he had been marked unclean.
Some of the other boys on stage who, like Octavius, had given themselves to the church sprang up from their seats to grab Preston only to be thrown back by the boy. Though no more than five feet and three inches tall, the boy managed to throw the three much larger church members across the room, two landings in the laps of some of the church staff members left sitting on stage, and one hitting the wall behind them.
Preston ran down the aisle, pushing passed the rest of the class who had yet to be purified and seemingly unintentionally pushed them across the room landing among the unclean members of the church sitting among the bottom floor pews. He was a few feet away from the door when more of the church members grabbed him, overwhelming him as they picked up from the ground and carried him away, kicking his legs, crying and screaming for his family as the church members took him to do whatever they did to the unclean. I looked up to the Jacobs family only to see Mrs. Jacobs crying into her husband's chest as Preston's father looked at his son being dragged away with disgust.
Within a few seconds, Preston had been taken to the back of the room and out of the church to be dealt with, and an eerie silence fell upon the congregation. After a few moments of standing, watching each other's movements the Pastor cleared his throat, and with all eyes on him the congregation sat and Pastor Winsor nodded his head for Octavius to continue the Ceremony.
"STEPHEN MANCHESTER"
YOU ARE READING
Unclean
Teen FictionQuarantine has really been messing with me and I need something to focus on besides the literal plague. Enjoy :0