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1
Emily Gannon
Panic grips me like an icy claw that squeezes my chest as I sprint through the dense underbrush that leads outside the compound.
The sky is black, not even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate my path or give me away. For that small mercy, I’m thankful.
I need to get out of here.
I need to get home, the home I closed my mind and my heart to all those years ago. Sarah and Lindsay flit through my mind. My living dolls, my little sisters who I abandoned. My rambunctious brother, Nate, who was forever teasing me yet loved me like no one else.
Tears sear my vision as my feet move faster.
The sound of my labored breathing enlivens the night, and the frantic beating of my heart echoes in my ears as dry leaves crush beneath my feet.
The air is warm against my skin despite the late hour. It’s been hellishly hot during the day, the night no better, but it beats a Colorado winter by a mile. That’s exactly why I had to wait for this time of year to begin with.
The heavy scent of pine stings my nostrils as my feet pound the dampness of the forest floor. It’s quiet as death out here, a stark contrast to the adrenaline surging through my veins.
I never imagined the serene wilderness with its towering aspens, the distant hoot of an owl, would play a part in my nightmare.
I dart past the silhouettes of trees, fleeing from shadows that seem to loom at every turn despite the blinding darkness.
I remember the day I heard about Paradise. It had been a rough week—the kind that makes you question every decision you’ve ever made. I was wandering through Denver feeling more lost than usual when I stumbled upon a couple of girls. They were so charming, so fun, so full of everything I thought I wanted to be. They promised a community that offered what I had been seeking for so long, a sense of belonging, understanding, a true family.
My own family was never close-knit. My mother held her social clubs in higher esteem than her children. My father held his revolving door of mistresses even closer than that. I craved a connection that I never felt at home.
Stepping into Paradise was like stepping into a dream. People from all walks of life came together, united by a shared vision of living in harmony away from the chaos of the outside world. We cut ties with our past, which I did without a second thought. They said we were building our own Garden of Eden, a self-sufficient haven where love and community were all that mattered—despite the dark undercurrents, the dark things they made me do, and the darker things they did to me. I believed it, and wholeheartedly a part of me still does.
The days blended into one another, each filled with communal tasks, meditation, the devilish things done under the cover of darkness, and teachings from our leaders, whom we revered. They spoke of higher purposes, of souls intertwined, of a destiny far greater than any we could imagine alone.
It was everything I wanted to hear, to believe, and to have.
But there were discrepancies in what we were told versus what I saw. Once I became aware of them, they were ever-present. I couldn’t deny them and neither could they.
But now it’s all spiraled into this hellish sprint through the woods, fleeing from the very people I once considered my saviors. I came in seeking a family, and instead stumbled into a den of wolves. Now, here I am, running for my life, with the truth twisting in my chest like a knife.
I’m going home to Sarah, Lindsay, and Nate. My siblings whom I never should have left to begin with. I thought they’d be fine without me, but I’ve grieved for them deeply and I find it hard to believe they haven’t grieved for me, too.
I’ll get help as soon as I can. I need to get Grady out of that hellhole and our sweet baby girl Evelyn, too. I should have seen the signs when they started taking away pieces of myself—when they were taking pieces of others away, too.
In Paradise, every child is your child, a concept I was more than thrilled with right up until I had my own. Bonding was verboten. I was so on board with that before I had Evelyn. I still remember the way the mothers begged for their children and I gleefully kept them apart. They were in my arms, in my care for the first year of their life.
A one-year cleansing was to help bond the children to the rest of my so-called sisters. But people were forever sneaking children back to their mothers, something I disapproved of until one day someone put Evelyn right back in my arms.
And Grady, how much I love him. I never thought in a million years I’d meet the man who would steal my heart in the middle of the hell I’ve just escaped.
In Paradise, there is no perfect partner. All men are our husbands; all husbands are our perfect partners. Everyone is so very happy with that. Everyone but me. It killed Grady to see me with other men. It killed me even more.
Those dirty blue tents come back to mind and I quickly push them right back out.
Instead, my thoughts reel to my brother. He would kill everyone here if he knew what had happened to me. My precious Nate. We had our love of art in common. I would give anything to listen to him talk about politics for hours on end. But then, time has marched on, years slipping under the bridge as easy as water. My siblings are older now. Sarah is probably in grad school. Lindsay might be, too. Nate is probably looking forward to hunting in the fall.
I’ll go back to school. I wish I never dropped out. If they don’t let me back in, I’ll apply to an art school. Heck, I’ll eschew my scholastic dreams altogether and lose myself in my paintings. I hope my mother didn’t throw any of my old work away.
The barn was my oasis where I could lose myself for hours in a world of oils and acrylics.
My father will welcome me home with open arms.
