“Father, who art in heaven, help me to stand firm in my belief.  Stand beside me as I walk through this dreadful storm, this powerful hurricane. I know I will come out victorious with you to watch over me, and I place my life in your hands. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

     Cecelia unfolded her hands and climbed onto her bed. She looked out her dusty bedroom window at the glimmering stars and shook her head, sighing. Fire seemed to surround her, consuming everything that was once holy and peaceful. Each day the crackling flames crept closer, but never quite managed to burn her. These people were the soldiers of Lucifer, at least to some extent.

     Cecelia reached underneath her bed and felt for the opening - a small storage space that opened when pressed. Pressing up with her hand, the storage door lowered along with a thick, beat up old book. She gripped the book and hauled it up onto the bed with her.

     Celelia didn’t open it right away, instead she gazed at it. The book’s paper spine was frayed, and the cover barely held on. Only two words were stamped into the cover which read Holy Bible. She gently ran her fingers over the cover before opening the book to its first page. At the bottom right corner of the page were words written neatly in cursive.

My Dear Cecelia,

I hope the spirit of the Lord finds and aids you in

your challenging journey through life. Things

might not seem easy, but you will never be alone

with our creator and savior at your side.

“And all who have this hope in him purify

themselves even as he is pure.” - 1 John 3:3

Much love,

Mom

Cecelia smiled and closed the book, hugging it close. Those words would always ring in her head, beloved and memorable I love you Mom, I’ll never forget.

*  *  *

     Cecelia sat motionless on her bed, holding the largest book she owned. It was a self-interpreting leather-bound Holy Bible with stylistic carvings on the spine, front and back cover. Inscriptions in the margins were dated 2023 and 2024 — 770 years ago.  Her mom had given her this before she was struck down by the fiery hell of this world. She would always cherish it. If only her mom could be here just for today.

     18. Considered an adult by some, a child by others. One of the biggest turning points in human female ages, and she had finally reached it. Well, she would just have to celebrate alone with God.

     Cecelia flipped to the back of the Bible where names were scribbled all over two blank pages. She remembered her mother first telling her about these pages. “Once someone turns 18, they get to leave their mark in this book.” She smiled and scribbled her name neatly by her mom’s. She ran her fingers over it but her face fell when she saw the open space where her brother’s name should be.

     Ethan. Her brother had always been a people pleaser, just blending with the crowd. He claimed he “didn’t want to cause any ripples in the still waters.” She understood he just wanted to live a peaceful life, but Cecelia wished he would’ve just stood strong in his faith. Their mother had raised them secretly around the belief of God and his great glory, but once the Mayor found out she was executed. Cecelia and Ethan were sent to their father’s care who tried to wash them clean of their beliefs. Ethan resisted at first to protect Cecelia from their father’s harshness but after being sent to Aragon, an institution dedicated to brainwashing christians against God, he soon folded and changed to be just like everyone else. It was dangerous to be a chameleon, changing with flow, at a time like this. Although that’s the only way some people knew how to survive.

     The door to Cecelia’s room clicked open. She jumped and attempted to hide the book from sight under the covers. Her father stood at the doorway with a neutral expression on his face.

     “Hey, I know it’s your birthday today so I’m letting you take the day for yourself.”

     Cecelia blinked in surprise and answered carefully. “Thank you.”

     On any other day her father would come in with a scowl on his face, demanding she get started on her schoolwork or chores. Since he didn’t trust other parents to raise their children right, Cecelia was homeschooled. He didn’t want her to be swayed towards any spiritual being like “God,” “Brahman,” “Allah,” “Jah,” or “Aeracura” as he knew other children were. Cecelia had heard these before when she attended school at a younger age while her mother cared for her and her father was drinking. Her father tried to extinguish those thoughts long ago after her mother’s death, but her mother’s belief and the word of God kept Cecelia secretly going strong.

      Cecelia’s father nodded and turned to go but stopped when the lump under the covers caught his eye. He stormed in and snatched the book up in his hand, ripping it from her grip.

     “What is this?” he demanded.

     “It’s nothing, just a book I’ve been reading.” Cecelia watched, wary of what her father would do.

     “Don’t you know how dangerous this book is? I thought I taught you better than that!”

     Cecelia glared at her father defiantly. “Mom gave it to me, give it back!”

     Her father ignored her and left the room, taking the Bible with him. Cecelia followed behind him.

     “The so-called spiritual realm caused division of people and any mention of it is strictly forbidden. I thought your mother’s death would finally teach you who to listen to.  That didn’t work, but maybe this will!” Cecelia’s father cast the book into the lit fireplace of the main room they had entered.

     “No!”

     Cecelia shoved her father away and grabbed the fire poker in an attempt to salvage the Bible — or rather, what remained of it. She used the small oval rug in front of the fireplace to snuff out the remaining flames. The aftermath of the fire left the book with some pages completely burned away and others crumbling under her hand. The back page where names used to be was now dust.

     “How could you? That was all I had left of Mom.” Cecelia’s hands trembled.

     “Cecelia, this wrong and unhealthy obsession could get you killed! The very thought of a spiritual being was fabricated by a fictional writer and mocks our very existence as human beings. That writer divided people with talk of “Gods” and “Goddesses.” You think we can’t do anything on our own and need some spiritual being to keep us alive? Yeah right. If that were so, none of us would be alive right now.”

     She looked her father dead in the eyes as he condescended  the very name of God and her entire belief. It wasn’t the first time they'd had this conversation, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Still, she was determined to defend her creator. She had to, especially after what he’d done.

     “God isn’t just some “spiritual being,” he’s our creator! He made human beings in his image along with the animals so he wouldn’t be lonely. He sent his one and only son down to Earth just to sacrifice him so the gates of Heaven would be open to us! He loves us even as we ridicule and turn our backs on him because that’s who he is! Everything is right there in the book you just burned. Maybe if you actually took the chance to read it you would see the truth.”

     Her father looked like he was about done with this conversation. “Do you know why you were named Cecelia? The name means “blind.” I convinced your mother to name you that because the doctors thought you were blind once you were born. Now I know it was the perfect name for someone so blind to reality.” The aged man turned to walk away.

     “Mom was a believer.”

     Cecelia’s father stopped but didn’t turn to face his daughter. “Your mother was a fool, and her beliefs got her killed.”

     “You’re the fool if you think that.”

     Her father whirled around and grabbed her wrist in fury. Without speaking, he stormed out of the withered house, dragging her with him. Cecelia looked back at the fixer-upper slowly growing smaller behind them. They had lived in that house ever since the day of her mother’s funeral. It had already looked gloomy to her, and it didn’t help that it was barely in one piece. This was really the only house her father could afford at the time, and never had the time or money to fix it up.

     “Where are we going?” Cecelia asked, even though she was afraid to ask.

     “Somewhere that will fix your way of thinking.”

     Cecelia looked around at the small town of West Newster as they walked hastily down the street. The main road was cracked and old, while the age of the buildings matched it. The Mayor of the withered town didn’t much care how it looked, as long as everyone had their job and stuck to it. Some members of the town were jealous of the shiny new buildings East Newster had, but no one confronted Mayor Tinley about it.

     The newest building in town was the massive gray brick building at the corner of Main and Alscott Ave. Dust rested on it in some places, but it was in much better shape than the rest of West Newster. Even so, those high up barred windows sent a shiver down Cecelia’s spine. As Cecelia and her father made their way up the steps to approach the large framed black door, she didn’t resist her father’s pull. The picture of what remained of her Bible was burned into her mind.

     Her father opened the door without hesitation and forced his daughter inside. The room just inside was a wide space with chairs off to the side for people to sit while a large receptionist desk was placed off to the right as the two walked in. There was a lady with bouncy curls and a mocha complexion behind the desk who looked up as the door opened.

     “Do you have an appointment?” The lady asked, and I was shocked by her blue eyes. The depthness of them and the freckles under them somehow reminded me of the ocean and beaches I had only read about in stories.

     “No, we’re a walk-in.” Cecelia’s father responded.

     The lady smiled and nodded, handing the man a clipboard with papers clipped to it along with a pen.

     “Just fill that out and we can get started.”

     Her father nodded and didn’t hesitate to start filling everything out on the papers. Cecelia just stood there in the awkward silence. The lady with startling blue eyes was staring at her and smiling which made her uncomfortable, so instead of staring back she looked around the room — although there wasn’t much to look at. There were no pictures on the beige-colored walls and the only windows were on the main door and the door beside the front desk. Behind this door looked like a hallway, but the view was limited. The place altogether felt weird, like maybe the walls would start to shrink. The air was slightly chilly and all she could smell was some sort of air freshener with a hint of bleach.

     After no more than a few minutes, Cecelia’s father handed the clipboard and pen back to the lady. She smiled and filed the papers away on her desk. When she turned back to them Cecelia caught a glimpse of her name tag that read “Zaria.”

     “Sir, you will have to stay here while we bring your daughter in. You are welcome to return home until we call you.” Zaria said.

     He simply nodded and gave his daughter a stern look before turning to exit. When he did, she looked back at Zaria uncertainly.

     “Come along now.” She said and led Cecelia through the hallway door.

     Cecelia saw endless doors leading to unknown rooms. Zaria led the way but Cecelia couldn’t keep track of all the twists and turns of the hallway that seemed to lead to other hallways. Everything looked the same, the white paint on the walls matching the doors.

     Eventually, they came to a door and Zaria stopped to open it. She then motioned Cecelia inside. She didn’t know what to expect, and carefully walked inside the room.

     Inside the room was a metal table and chair, but other than those it looked just like the hallway did, only less doors. Still no pictures.

     “Just have a seat on the table.”

     When Zaria spoke, Cecelia flinched and looked back at her. Something didn’t feel right about this room. Still, she did as she was told and climbed onto the table to sit. Zaria sat in the chair, neatly folding her hands over her lap.

     “Tell me Cecelia, what’s on your mind?”

     She looked back at the lady warily. Why would she spill all her thoughts to some stranger in an unfamiliar place she didn’t trust?

     “Nothing.” she responded, resigned.

     “Nothing?” Zaria questioned.

     “Nothing that would interest you.”

     “I’m sure that’s not true, I happen to be very interested in what you have to say.” Zaria leaned forward in her seat a little.

     Zaria’s eyes were too eager, her smile too wide. Cecelia didn’t trust any of it. The girl fidgeted with her hands as she spoke.

     “Well . . . I guess I’m wondering why I’m here when I’ve done nothing wrong.”

     Zaria nodded and straightened in her chair. “Very good. You are here because your father believes you have shown signs of neurosis in your abode. This clearly calls for some action to take place in which we will use our skills to the best of our ability to heal your sense of neurological discomfort.”

     “Huh?” Cecelia froze in her fidgeting. Wait, you want to cure me? I have no discomfort, I don’t need to be cured of anything, I’m not sick!” She protested.

     Zaria ignored the outburst. “The process will take time, though how much time will depend on you. On average the process seems to last about 1-2 months, but then our more indisposed patients always need more time to adjust to the process.”

     “What process?” Cecelia narrowed her eyes.

     “The process which will result in you being cured, of course.”

     Of course she wasn’t going to be told; she would have to find out the hard way, right? Well they could try all they wanted, but Cecelia wasn’t going to listen to anything they had to say. She remembered when her older brother Ethan was brought here. He had stayed for about three months before returning home. She had run to her brother at his arrival but he had changed. He had turned cold and seemingly emotionless. After about 2 weeks this rage came over him and he left on his own, moving to East Newster to get away from his family. He even called Cecelia a freak. They had been thick as thieves before, but after coming to this dreadful place it was like they never knew each other. Now she was being forced into this place to be “cured” of her beliefs. She looked away from the lady sitting across from her.

     “We won’t start right away, instead we will allow you to get adjusted in your room along with your roommates. You will use the clothes provided for you here. There is to be no yelling or throwing of any kind in the room. Outside items will not be permitted as everything you need is available to you. You are to make your bed each morning. Someone will come to get you on laundry day to wash your clothes and linens.”

     Cecelia didn’t respond, she didn’t want to hear any of it. She didn’t want to be trapped here where they would do who knows what just to force the Lord out of her heart. She just wanted to be curled up in her own room on her bed under the covers where she could hide from this cruel world. She looked away.

     Zaria stood. “Come along, now. I will bring you to your room.”

     Cecelia just stood and followed the lady out of the strange room down the twisting hall. Eventually they came to a door where Zaria stopped to open the door.

     Inside the room were four beds, two on each wall to mirror each other. Seven girls were already there either sleeping, drawing or staring at the wall. The opening of the door drew their attention.

     “Girls, this is Cecelia. She is your new roommate. Remember, lights out at the sun’s final light.”

     With that Zaria was gone and Cecelia was left alone with the strange girls. One with dark hair just gave me a pitied look before turning away. Everyone else stared at her but two girls — blonde and ginger — approached her bravely.

     “I am so sorry you got caught.” The ginger said.

     “Don’t worry, we’re all like you here.” The blonde added.

     Cecelia’s eyes widened when she saw the ginger had a bandage over her right eye.

     “What happened to you?” she asked in horror.

     “Oh.” the ginger looked down. “The people here . . . they can be harsh sometimes during the process.”

     The blonde comforted her friend. “Alani here was a little stubborn when they questioned her progress during one of her first check-ins. Ever since she hasn’t talked back to them.”

     Cecelia frowned. “This isn’t right, this shouldn’t be happening.”

     She looked around the room again. Now she saw the injuries these girls had. The dark-haired girl was missing an arm, while another was missing a finger or two. Every one of them had burn marks and scars patterning their skin.

     “That’s just the way it is here, you’ll get used to it.” The dark-haired girl said.

     “Don’t listen to Cora, some of us still have hope. We silently pray every morning and night that things will get better, and I believe one day it will.” the blonde smiled.

     The door opened again and a girl with raven black hair was brought in. The people escorting her left as soon as she was inside and she collapsed to the floor as soon as they did. The girl’s hair was cropped shoulder length and had numerous scars and burns covering her, seemingly even more than the others.

     “Alex!”

     “She’s back, thank goodness.”

     “Give her space, give her space!” The blonde motioned everyone away before going to examine Alex.

     Alex’s eyes opened and she waved the blonde’s hand away. “I’m fine, just zapped is all.”

     Some sighed while others gasped.

     “They increased the voltage?” the blonde asked.

     Alex nodded. “Knocked me out and I woke up to a splintered leg. Doc fixed me up, but now I need this stupid thing.” she motioned to the crutch beside her on the floor.

     Cecelia shook her head, her hand covering her mouth. “I knew it was bad, but not like this . . .”

     Alex looked up. “Who’s the newbie?”

     “Cecelia, she’s replacing Claudia.” the blonde girl answered.

     Alex shook her head. “Lord help us all.”

     “Who’s Claudia?” Cecelia asked.

     The room grew silent and everyone looked down while someone began to sob.

     “She was a patient here until they decided to cut her line last week.” Alex said after a long pause.

     Cecelia gasped. “They killed her?”

     “It’s okay, now she’s up in heaven and doesn’t have to suffer anymore.” Alani smiled slightly.

     Cecelia shook her head. “No, this has to stop.”

     Alex scoffed. “Yeah, good luck with that. They’ll push until they break you. All you can do is keep praying.”

     “What did God do when Lucifer rose up against him? He did something about it and banished him from his kingdom. Praying will only get you so far but actions will take you to the finish line.”

     “They’ll kill us all if we rise against them, we’re outnumbered.” A girl with braids said.

     “We have God on our side, our father and creator. They are forcing you away from him and causing you to lose hope just like everyone else in the world. As long as we stand strong in our faith, we can do this.” Cecelia wished these girls would listen.

     “I just don’t know if it will work, we’ve tried before.” The blonde said.

     “Leah’s right, it’s not like we haven’t tried to rise up before. Why should things change just because you showed up?” Alex asked her.

     “Things shouldn’t change just because I’m here, but they need to change. It can’t continue like this, or we’ll never win the fight.” Cecelia paused and her face fell. “My father threw my Bible into the fire this morning. We had this big fight which ended in me being brought here.”

     Alani, the ginger girl, came up and embraced Cecelia in a hug. Leah closely followed, and the other girls in the room joined in. They all felt the pain of someone burning God’s word, for they all loved Him dearly. All eight girls were united in that moment, joined together by the burning of a book.

     Alex stepped back and looked at Cecelia. “You’re lucky you got to keep a Bible for so long. Mine was discovered when I was 13. The librarian gave it to me and she was executed.” she smiled. “I’ve tried to fight back, but fallen short in belief a few times. I was actually afraid I would end up discharged soon.” Her head lowered. “But then I prayed for something to happen, for someone to come who will finally put a stop to all this.” She looked up again with a smile on her face.

     Cecelia returned the smile. “I can only walk with the Lord at my side, wherever my path leads. I can’t promise I can make everything okay again, but I can help you renew your faith. Only then can we resist.”

     “Resist?” a small girl questioned.

     “We have a resistance!” Alani cheered.

     Leah smiled and hugged Cecelia. “Thank you Lord, for bringing Cecelia to us.”

     Cecelia looked around the room. Smiles big and small spread from girl to girl. A meager sense of hope began to rise within her as she realized what had begun. Her mother’s words rung in her head. “Resistance to tyranny is obedience to God.” The Lord’s light would not be extinguished.

Prompt: Fictional Memoir; Turn Memoir into a fictional story