Eli Borrelli

21: Demons

"I have disobeyed my parents and purposefully put them in shame. I have complained and ungratefully acted against the people, who give me the most in life. I asked my parents to cut my hair short, knowing, that the holy book reads that as a sin. I stole food from my parents, without their permission, showing gluttony, envy, and greed. I have neglected my chores, sloth. I have gone against my elders, with wrath, and pride. I-" 

I looked at Matthew, who stood to the side. I was about to cry, and my hands were shaking as I held the small paper filled with all the bad things I had done. I silently pleaded for Matthew to tell me I was done, but instead, he nodded and said:

"Go ahead. We are here to help you."

"I- I have shown signs of homosexuality. I wanted to play with the boys and- and I- I asked my father, about... about k-kissing girls. I regret my actions, and only hope, that our lord and savior shall look at me with the kind eyes, you have shown me here," I finished praying to God for forgiveness.

"Thank you for sharing that, Serena. Remember, we love you," Matthew said walking up to me.

He put his hand on my back and gently pushed me towards my seat.

"The devil can be defeated in each and every one of you, but you must commit to it. You must pray to God, and ask him for forgiveness for your sins. You must want to be better, and you must choose the right path, right here, right now. You all can be healed, you all can step into the light," Matthew said in front of us all. I wanted to believe him, and I did. I wanted it to work, I wanted to understand what I did wrong.

"Serena you have therapy with me before lunch," he said after everyone had started to gather their things.

"I have been speaking with your parents, lovely people, true children of God, and we have decided to keep you here for a few months. We believe, that you would truly benefit, from that time,"

"You know about my addictions, right?" I asked after taking a deep sigh.

I wasn't going to therapy, no matter what. My brothers slowly nodded, which I took as my sign to continue.

"Well, hurting myself is another one of those. I've gotten better, but sometimes it just happens," I tried to explain as vaguely as possible.

We talked for way too long. They kept on trying to tell me not to, but I knew it was useless. I knew, no matter what they did or said, I'd still fall back. Sometimes I really couldn't help myself. it was like I was possessed or something, where even if I tried to fight it, it was useless and in the end, I would lose.

No matter how much I told them, I definitely wasn't ready to talk about my father yet. He taught me to hurt myself, he told me to do it, he forced me to do it, but there was no way I was going to relive that. 

The more I talked the better they felt. I could see them easing up a bit, so I kept on going. I explained why I didn't like therapy. I told them about how I was forced to speak to a priest at camp, but I wasn't ready to tell them what really happened there. Even tho my brothers promised real therapy wouldn't be like that, I wasn't convinced. For all, I knew I'd let down my guard and the next second I'd be on my way to another camp.

I was twelve years old when my parents sent me to a different camp. It wasn't like the one I was used to. The rooms weren't shared, I didn't get to talk with the other kids, and the place looked less like a community center and more like a prison.