Summary: Alex is a resident of Havenwood, a religious community that restricts almost all aspects of its residents' lives. Alex is unsatisfied and rebellious, planning to make her escape. But things become somewhat less black-and-white when traumatized Mitchie Torres is relocated to Havenwood from Cascadia, a sister camp on the West Coast.

A/N: I don't know if the violence/themes in here are inappropriate for the T rating, but if they are, please tell me because I'm not sure.

God is good

God is great

Satan is the one that we should hate

God is good

God is great

Satan is the one that we should hate

If I have to chant that stupid poem one more time I might kill myself before my mother can. She's upset at me today because I asked a question in Sunday services earlier this morning. As much as you're not supposed to ask questions during the rest of the services, this one is especially forbidden. According to the Shepherds, Sunday (the seventh day) is the day that God rested, so God wants everyone to rest on that day, too, which means using our brains even less than usual. I think that's a load of shit, because come on- how do we know that our Sunday is God's Sunday? I mean, what if God rested on what was our Tuesday and some idiot 2000 years screwed up the calendar system? It's entirely possible and extremely likely. So I've decided to practice the Sabbath on Tuesdays now which, coincidentally, is the day we have to do hard labor. When I told my mother this, she screamed some more at me, then told me to go and see my father. She never tells me to go and see my father at work unless I've performed one of the Cardinal Atrocities. There's only seven and I've broken six of them. The seventh one is going to be slightly difficult because it requires a willing participant. For future reference, I'll tell them to you now.

1. The sin of fornication and all activities related to it are strictly forbidden outside of officially sanctioned child creation (the only one I haven't broken)

2. Do not question anything in the Bible

3. Do not question anything the Shepherds say

4. Never tell a lie

5. Any female will not question the judgment of a male that is equal to or older than her in age

6. All residents must perform one of the Blessed Sacrifices at least once a day

7. Everyone must create themselves in the image of either the Mother or the Father

The Mother and the Father are the big-wigs here, the leading Shepherds. For as long as I've been alive, it's been Arnie and Eloise. They're crazier, and apparently stricter than the people who were around when my parents grew up. This, according to nearly everyone in the compound, is a good thing. I think it's bullshit. Swearing, in case you're wondering, isn't one of the Cardinal Atrocities, but it's severely frowned upon so naturally I do it as much as possible.

I've almost made it to my father's work (janitor in the Shepherds' Sanctuary) because I know that if I don't it'll be ten times worse. I really hate this stupid compound with all its rules, especially Cardinal Atrocity number 5. That's the one I break the most- OK, the one I get caught for the most. I break the one about lying multiple times a day. My father dislikes me breaking number 5 the most, obviously, because it undermines his authority. Not like I really give a shit about his authority to begin with.

So here I am, waiting at the desk of the Shepherds' Sanctuary. The receptionist Margaret knows me by name and calls my father when she sees me enter. I hate coming here not only because I only I'm going to get disciplined, but also because it's just so, so dull. The room, I mean. There's next to nothing in it; the floor is wood, the walls are this hideous maroon, there's all sorts of Jesus paraphernalia everywhere and then there's Margaret's desk, which is made out of a rather light colored wood and has nothing on it but a phone. There are no computers allowed here because it's so hard to regulate them, but we do have radio (which only picks up waves from our own station produced here in the compound). We learn about all the modern advances and why they're evil, but we've never experienced their evilness first hand. I think that's a really stupid strategy- in fact, that was the first time I got in trouble for committing one of the Cardinal Atrocities. The time when I questioned the reason why we couldn't see just how evil those things were. I got thrown out of the room and had to meet with one of the Enforcers, who beat me 14 times with a belt- you got one lash for each Cardinal Atrocity (even if you only broke one) and one for each year of age. I was seven. Clearly it had very little effect on me.

"Alexandra," Margaret said, calling me over.

"It's Alex." That had become an automatic response over the years; I much preferred Alex over the prim and proper Alexandra. But no one seemed to be interested in my individuality. What a shock.

She ignored me. "Your father will be here momentarily. Please have a seat, if you-"

"Margaret, I know the rules. I've been here too many times to count," I told her. "I'll go plop my ass on that chair-"

"Language!"

I just rolled my eyes at her and went over to the cold, uninviting wooden chairs they had set up in the corner. My father usually yelled at me for about 12 seconds and then sent me to the Enforcers, standing there watching me the whole way out. He wasn't allowed to miss work for more than a minute and a half for me anymore- usually family emergencies warrant ten minutes, but since I'm in here so often, our time was shortened.

As expected, my father rolled in huffing and puffing and looking extremely angry. He was dressed in his standard issue janitor's jumpsuit, which I looked at with envy. Hey, it was better than the hideous, flat, boring, totally-not-sexy-at-all cotton dresses all the girls had to wear. Today, mine was puke green. And absolutely more atrocious than normal. The puke green is even worse than the dirt brown, which is worse than the sky blue.

"Alexandra Russo!" My father's voice boomed through the tiny room, causing Margaret to shake her desk with a start. Wuss. "Don't-"

"'-you ever think about doing this again! Don't you know what I go through every day to support this family!'" I finished his speech for him, arms crossed. "I already now the speech, Dad. Now slap me or whatever and send me to the Enforcers."

He stares at me, eyes completely not believing what he's seeing. I've never called him out like this before and I don't think he likes it, which just makes me smile. This makes him even more upset. "Just go, Alexandra! Get out of my sight!" He wanders away, muttering to himself. "God, I pray for more guidance on Alexandra. And I thank You for this test You have given; I just hope that I have the strength to pass." As much as I don't want to admit it, his remark stings a little bit. I don't look up at him as he retreats back to the bowels of the building.

"I'll tell the Enforcers to be waiting for you," Margaret says after a moment. It jolted me back to earth and back to my normal attitude.

I get up from the chair, a snarky smirk on. "Tell them I want Damien. He's my favorite."

Margaret doesn't really know what to make of me- most people don't bring up the topic of the Enforcers ever, and next to no one is on a first name basis with them. I like Damien the best because he doesn't try to teach me a lesson with his words and then his whip- just with his whip. Everyone else tries to quote passages and spit the Word at me, but Damien understands that the beating, the quoting don't really affect me. He hates me with more of a passion than any of the other Enforcers, I think, and he whips me extra hard for it. However, it's better in my opinion to have the lashes a bit harder than to have to listen to an hour spiel about Job because for some reason they always read me the Job story. Always. Maybe that's the story they read to everyone.

I arrived at the Enforcers portion of the compound, which is basically a bunch of barracks and a wall of whip. In general the procedure is to lean your forehead against the walls and lift your shirt up so that the Enforcer can hit your bare back. Of course it hurts- but I don't let them see.

"Hello, Damien," I say pleasantly as I spot him in the corner, looking very ready to kick my ass. "How are you doing today?" He doesn't speak to me; he never does. "I'm in here for breaking the third Cardinal Atrocity and it's 23 lashes." I assume the position against the wall. "Lay it on me, tough guy."

Damien wastes no time in coming up behind me and getting his whip out. He steps up behind me and makes an intimidating grunting noise. Here we go.

One.

"So, I heard you got engaged."

Two.

"Congratulations."

Three.

"I always thought you crazy kids would make it."

Four.

"Have you decided on a date yet?"

Five.

"I think you'd do better with a winter wedding."

Six.

"You could have it in the church."

Seven.

"And then move outside."

Eight.

"With all the snow here, it will be beautiful."

Nine.

"Do you ever talk, Damien?"

Ten.

"Even to your wife?"

Eleven.

"That must be a strange relationship."

Twelve.

"Are you going to have kids?"

Thirteen.

"I guess it's kind of a law, so you have to."

Fourteen.

"I bet you want a boy."

Fifteen.

"You probably want a lot of boys."

Sixteen.

"I can see you, being that kind of dad.

Seventeen.

"You'll probably retire."

Eighteen.

"From the Enforcers."

Nineteen.

"And start-"

Twenty.

"A farm."

Twenty-one.

"It'll-"

Twenty-two.

"be-"

Twenty-three.

"nice."

I stand up and put my shirt down. Slowly collecting myself, I turn around and give Damien my biggest smile. "It was nice seeing you again, Damien." He grunts in response, but I can see a sick grin form on his face as he hangs the whip back up.

After I bid him farewell and safely clears the door, I run. I run and I keep going for as far as I can, until I find my favorite tree, the one with the orange spray paint still left-over from when loggers were going to cut down this forest. Oh, how I wish they did. Oh how I wish.

I lay down in the shade of the tree on my stomach because laying on my back might kill me. I do a good thirty second scan of the surrounding area and make sure that no one's around. And then, only then, do I let the tears drop from my eyes.