Writing Prompt

Mom never talked about the compound just called it "the bad place." Said we got out when I was a baby. Said I should be grateful.

I wasn’t.

After her funeral, I found letters in a rusted lockbox: sermons, manifestos, diagrams. The cult called themselves The Offering. Their belief? That death was the purest form of mercy. A sacrifice. One life taken to preserve ten.

I read everything. Couldn't stop...

I found the journal on a rainy afternoon, hidden in the far corner of the attic. I wasn’t looking for it—just rifling through the old boxes that had been collecting dust for as long as I could remember. My mother’s things, remnants of a past she’d never really shared. The journal was tucked beneath a stack of yellowed papers; its leather cover was cracked and worn. I hesitated before picking it up...

I had always been taught to fear them. Always told that what they believe was the opposite of what was true.

But for some reason, I felt caught in the middle. I didn’t necessarily agree with everything my father and his family believed.

It probably didn’t help that my golden retriever Sadie had been given to me just a few years earlier. The boy had seemed nice and trustworthy. Only later did I fin...

ITALY, JUNE 2024:

Sitting on the terrace by the coast is calming and beautiful. I stare out at the crystal waters thinking about how I came to be here. My parents escaped a cult when I was about 2 years old and they love retelling the story, though they say it’s not supposed to be for entertainment.

They turned in a cult to the police due to unlawful executions in order to get what they believ...

In the quiet hours of twilight, Alex sifted through the dusty boxes stowed away in the attic, each one a portal to a past they scarcely understood. Nestled among faded photographs and forgotten relics, a weathered journal emerged, its pages yellowed with age. Curiosity piqued, Alex flipped through its contents, stumbling upon the clandestine musings of a forgotten era.

The journal chronicled the ...

We nearly died

Lucky to be alive

Each day a gift now

That we’re out of there

So they tell me in stories

Of white robes and black tea

How tightly they watched us

Always so aware

Grass huts with dirt floors

Water from a spigot

Living on our own labor

Holding on by a hair

Cut off from reality

No news is good news

Blissfully ignorant

Without any care

But we were fortunate

We woke up w...

Life was simply before I knew all of this. I played basketball with the other kids around the block, mom baked apple pies for community charity events, dad was a regular at the fire department hang out spot, and my kid sister was top of her class in science.

Then it happened. Our birth right. Our calling…sorry…THE Calling. The thing we were meant to do. The things our ancestors would want us to...

Mom said that she and dad were kidnapped by a group of people. Almost died!

I got curious, obviously. So I decided to search up the case. Back in ‘95. What came up was….nothing short of interesting.

The article I found was a bit old and debatably controversial.

‘A couple, Sandra Landen and Mathew Reed, went on an evening walk to the movie theater. On the way there witnesses stated that a gro...

“My parents really tried to join them?” I ask in a small voice.

“Yes.” Marian said looking down on me.

“They barely escaped.” She said.

“And me?” I ask. Marian looked down at her feet.

“I- I saved you.” She said.

“So…you’ve lied to me all these years?” I choke on tears I’m trying to keep in.

“Adalia…” Marian pleaded.

“You’re not my mother.” I accuse. River puts a hand on my shoulder and I...

I tried. I tried for so long but it’s so driven into my brain, every time I want to do better, I want to move on I see his face. The leader, our chosen one. I can’t help but see him as a god among men. I can’t help but see me as inferior to his being. I want to but it’s like I just can’t. We escaped the cult but the cult never escaped me....