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vincent-sinclair-deserved-better · 1 year

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A Little Bit Of Heaven, A Little Bit Of Hell

I wasn't able to write today because the day drained me and I am frustrated so I'll just split this in two parts I guess (I just want to show it to people asdffgasad)

Characters: Judah (by @bluecoolr), Esther (yet to be introduced? mayhaps?), other minor background characters

Words: 3023

Content warnings: religion/Christianity, religious guilt, bible quotes, it's been years since I was in church so I'm making stuff up as I go, mention of murder - if you need anything else tagged or specifically marked in the text, please let me know

dividers by firefly-graphics

Where my heart becomes free And my shame is undone

It was like paradise.

Or that was what it felt like in comparison to Judah’s home anyway. Sure, most of the people living in Zak would disagree, they were too brainwashed to see what kind of hell they lived in, but he knew. He saw the darkness wherever he looked, the corruption seeping from every nook and cranny, staining everyone and everything. And he knew the source of it, lived with it, the whole house and family tainted by self-righteous lies and false promises. He’d had to get out.

Carmel was different. People were kind and welcoming from the moment he arrived, there was no one watching his every move or monitoring his words. They weren’t suspicious simply due to him being an outsider. There was no constant underlying threat of severe punishment for making a mistake. And he was treated just like everyone else; he didn’t catch spiteful glances thrown his way, nor was he immune to consequences or exempt from rules. For the first time in years, he felt normal and like an equal member of the community.

Also, people genuinely liked and respected the Reverend as opposed to being scared or seeming completely enraptured with him. They came to the services because they wanted to and didn’t get anxious if they missed one.

The town had communal gardens, a bakery, a butcher, all the usual things. It was pretty self-sustained and actual money was only rarely used. Mostly for things that had to be bought from out of town; there were a few people who worked in the city and did supply runs. Everyone helped everyone and did whatever work was needed, to the best of their abilities.

Parents didn’t have to worry about their children getting a place in kindergarten or school since the town had everything. In the community centre, there was a specific area for children who needed to be watched past the time the school ended, and it included free food, activities, and help with homework or studying. Single parents didn’t have to worry about not finding someone to look after and take care of their kids because there was always someone willing to do it. Alternatively, the town had what could probably be most closely compared to boarding schools, where parents who were overwhelmed with childcare could send their children, along with being where orphans lived. Those schools also offered an option for teenage mums to stay and live with their children.

Carmel also offered full support for people who wanted to move away for whatever reason, from kids wanting to attend college over single adults looking for a job and career to families who wanted a change of scenery. They were supported on every step of the way. No questions, no criticism, no judgement, no objections.

Everything was perfect.

So perfect it was outright blinding.

But things don't always come that easy And sometimes I would doubt

He still wasn’t sure if he had actually not seen the signs or if he’d subconsciously ignored them, unwilling to let go of the ideal vision that he’d had in his mind. It was difficult to bring the image of the Reverend’s friendly, helpful brother David into accordance with the devious person Abigail had spent the last half hour describing to him. Still, he couldn’t sense any dishonesty in her voice, and her tearful expression seemed sincere. It pained him to see his usually cheerful and smiling neighbour like this.

“Please,” she said, “I won’t ask your aid, all I need is for you to not tell on us. Not yet, at least.”

Some strands of dark hair that had escaped her braid where clinging to her forehead and cheeks, her skin covered in a mix of sweat and tears. She looked tired and scared. Desperate. He was torn, unsure what was the right thing to do. All he had wanted to do was take out the trash and get ready for a lazy evening, lounging on the sofa and watching TV. He hadn’t expected to catch Abigail and Esther, a girl who helped with a lot of community events, climbing out of a window of the neighbouring house. Esther walked over to them, still holding Abigail’s new-born son. The boy had been fussy and crying, so she had taken him to calm him down.

“They’ll send her to Saint Margaret’s,” she stated simply. The community home for single parents, teenage mums, and struggling families. A good place, build on kindness and compassion. Or so he had thought.

Judah rubbed his temples, watching the boy who was now looking around the room, his chocolate brown eyes filled with curiosity and innocent wonder, “And you’re sure you can’t just- I mean, surely someone would believe and-”

There had to be a solution. Something that didn’t involve him lying and going behind other community members’ backs. There had to. But then again, why would they lie? If what he had been taught before was true, why would anyone want to run away? If the people actually were as supportive and kind as he had thought up until now, why would a first-time mother go through the trouble of sneaking out of the hospital with her baby?

Esther sighed and handed the boy back to his mother, before stepping in front of Judah, looking up at him, “Listen, I know this is a lot to take in, but we don’t have much time. At this point, someone must have noticed her disappearance. They’re probably looking for her already, and it won’t be difficult to figure out that she might want to stop by her former home.”

“It’s just... it just seems so... harsh. Ostracising someone, sending them away or locking them up I could imagine, but outright murder? It’s against everything we believe in, isn’t it?” he said unsure, questioning, not even knowing whether he was trying to convince himself or not.

“I can give you proof, okay? I can prove everything she said and more, just not now,” Esther replied and grabbed his hand, her eyes pleading, “Just go to sleep and act like nothing happened. Pray for forgiveness for all I care. This isn’t your... ‘fight’, for the lack of a better word. You don’t have to get involved, and the sooner we get out of here, the smaller the risk of being seen with us.”

He sighed but nodded, “Alright. I’ll just... I’ll head upstairs, get ready for bed. You do what you must.”

With that he turned and left before either of the women could say another word. When he reached his bedroom, he just sat down on his bed, not even bothering to turn on the light. He just stared into the darkness. This was the exact kind of stuff he had been running from. Secrecy and lies, fear and betrayal. Death. But it seemed like it was impossible; no matter how idyllic a place looked on the surface, corruption spread its tendrils everywhere, slipping through the smallest cracks in people’s faith and seeping into their hearts.

And, contrary to everything he thought he had known, if what the women had said was true, things here were even worse than back home.

Back home?

This thought gave him pause, ripping him out of his contemplation. This was his home. It had been for almost a year now, and that’s what he had thought and felt about it as well. The town, the people, the house – this was his home. The community was his community, his family.

He hadn’t thought of Zak as home in years. It’d been the place he lived, where he was stuck, trapped – his own personal hell. Zak had not been home. It wasn’t home. How could it be? It was led by a bunch of murderers.

Just like Carmel, apparently.

His heart clenched at the thought and his chest hurt. His head hurt too. It was too much, everything was too much, and for the first time since he was a child he went to sleep without proper prayer. All he could muster the energy to do were a few sentences mumbled under his breath, before he lied down and slipped under the blanket. He didn’t even change into his pyjamas.

My life I know it’s never really been mine So do with it whatever You like

Judah had expected there to be some kind of agitation or restlessness the next day, some consequence for what had happened last night – instead everything was as calm and peaceful as always. Nothing had changed. As he stood in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil, he wondered if it had all just been a dream. Back in Zak someone would’ve already come knocking at the door, ready to take him in for questioning. Nothing escaped Darrell and “The Zakkaites” attention. But there was no knocking, no doorbell, no calls.

Despite feeling exhausted, he did manage to get dressed and attend the 12 o’clock service, half expecting people to give him judgemental or knowing looks, but everyone just smiled at him. Kindness and trust.

Proverbs 28:13 – Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.

He sat down next to the baker, a woman named Sarah, and tried to calm down. At this rate, people were bound to figure out that something is wrong, it was basically written in his face. As if on cue, Sarah nudged him, “Are you alright? You are looking pale.”

“Yeah, I just didn’t sleep well,” he replied, which technically wasn’t a lie.

Sarah nodded and squeezed his hand, “Maybe try and take a nap once you’re back home. You deserve some rest.”

Luke 8:17 – For all that is secret will eventually be brought into the open, and everything that is concealed will be brought to light and made known to all.

The service seemed to pass in the blink of an eye while also seeming to last forever. The Reverend had talked about guilt and regret and penance. About how everyone could be forgiven. Judah was ready to go and ask if the Reverend had a moment, that he needed to tell him something, but before he had the chance someone grabbed his arm.

“You ready to talk?” Esther said, piercing blue eyes seemingly staring right into his soul.

“Actually, I was going to-” he began, but she cut him off, “Great, let’s go then.”

With that, she turned around and pulled him with her. He was to stunned to react at first, and didn’t want to draw attention to them either.

“Esther, wait. We can’t just- I can’t just keep quiet about this. It’s wrong,” he said, managing to pull his arm from her grasp and stop. Esther turned to look at him, then their surroundings, and nodded towards an alley, “Can we at least not do this in the middle of the road?”

He sighed, “Yeah, sure.”

They went to the side of the road, just far enough to be out of immediate earshot while also remaining fairly inconspicuous.

“So, what is it? Did all the talk about sin and forgiveness affect you, or were you planning to run off to the Reverend all along?” Esther said, an edge to her voice that almost felt hostile, but was really just bitterness. He felt sorry for her, wondering if her mind was perhaps being affected by guilt she wasn’t aware she was carrying.

“I hadn't really made up my mind going in, I wasn’t sure whether all of last night’s... happenings were actually real or just a dream,” he said slowly, “But the Reverend did bring up some good points. Relatable points. Like, I think it was Psalms 32:3-4, ‘When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer.’ - don’t you feel that at all?”

She scoffed, “No. And I strongly doubt David and the Reverend’s other brothers care much about confessing their own wrongdoings either.”

“But it isn’t our place to judge,” Judah replied, “That’s up to the Lord.”

“Isaiah 1:17 – ‘Learn to do right; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.’” Esther said, “Widows like Abigail. Orphans like the children whose mothers pass in that cursed birth house because if they aren’t deemed worthy, they only receive minimal care. They let people die there, Judah.”

Psalm 120:2 – Save me, Lord, from lying lips and from deceitful thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Esther, but that’s just really hard to believe,” he said, unable to meet her eyes.

Some people had gathered in front of the café just a little down the road, watching their quiet but agitated discussion. Esther clenched her jaw and leaned closer, forcing him to look at her, “So let me speak. Tell you what I know, the other perspective. Just hear me out, or are you so unsure in your faith that you worry you could be this easily deceived? If what I say is untrue, don’t you think you’d be able to tell?”

“If what you say is true it would only prove that I have been deceived already, so how could I trust my own judgement?” he replied, frowning at his insecurity.

“Whatever. If you don’t want to listen, I can’t make. If you prefer to stay blissfully oblivious, be my guest. And if your ‘guilt’ is so much you insist on running off to the Reverend, sure. They’ll be grateful, and whatever will happen to me... well, I have no regrets. I only do what I deem to be right and just. And if I could go back in time, I’d do it all over again,” Esther stepped away from him and straightened her posture, putting on a neutral expression, “Just one more thing for you to consider: Proverbs 11:13 – ‘A gossip betrays a confidence, but a trustworthy person keeps a secret’. Make of that what you will.”

Everything I once held dear I count it all as lost

Hearing his brother’s words come from Esther’s mouth was like a punch to the gut, and he kept staring at the space she had stood even after she had left. He felt sick. How could it be that the past he had so desperately tried to escape from and forget was catching up to him now? Did Esther know Darrell, or was it just chance? He didn’t know what to believe anymore, his thoughts and feelings in complete disarray, and he prayed for some kind of sign that would show him the right way.

The touch of a hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts and his gaze met Sarah’s worried expression, “Judah, dear, are you alright? You really aren’t looking well.”

He just stared at her for a moment and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

Sarah gently took his arm and lead him across the street, towards the café, “Come, take a seat and have a glass of water. Take a moment to calm down, you seem troubled.”

“I- yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he replied, voice raspy and almost inaudible.

They found a table right by the window, and the small crowd that had formed dispersed on Sarah and Judah’s arrival. He still felt eyes on him, people watching while walking out. He told himself they were just concerned for his well-being, but it didn’t feel quite right.

It didn’t even take five minutes for a glass of water to be brought while Sarah sat across from him, holding his hand and keeping a watchful eye on him. It was only when he picked up the glass to take a sip that he realised he was shaking, but thankfully Sarah didn’t comment. He didn’t feel like talking about his past. He didn’t even want to think about it.

“You really shouldn’t spend too much time with Esther,” Sarah said, gentle voice having a surprisingly serious edge to it.

He met her gaze, brows furrowed in confusion, “Why not?”

“She’s a bad influence. Hiding it well, though,” the older woman replied, “Her parents have been trying to rein her in for years now, but despite acting all nice and proper on the surface, people know she’s secretly up to no good.”

“But... isn’t she one of the main people planning the gardens? And doing a lot of tutoring in the community centre?”

Sarah sighed, “As I said, she is hiding it well. Just, be careful. Don’t blindly believe what she says, and be prepared for her trying to use her past as a means to gain you sympathy.”

The way Sarah was talking about and describing Esther was so different from what he had seen and her tone rubbed him the wrong way. Despite trying to keep her voice concerned and caring, there was clear judgement. Especially the last part of her sentence sounded almost deprecating. “Her past? What about it?”

“Her older siblings died in a car accident when she was fourteen, she didn’t take it well and started acting up afterwards, running away and doubting the Lord. It got better – or at least more subdued – once she turned eighteen,” she explained, turning to wistfully look out of the window, “She used to be such a good girl, you know? Well behaved, polite, gentle, earnest. Then her sister started getting into her head, telling the poor child Lord-knows-what. The accident was the last straw, and no matter how well she pretends to have returned to that innocent and pious girl she used to be... it is hard to believe. People don’t just change overnight. There’s still something wrong with her, that I am certain of.”

Judah’s stomach twisted, every single word making the feeling stronger, and by the time Sarah had finished speaking, he was feeling nauseated. No matter how hard the older woman had tried to obscure her acrimony towards Esther, attempting to cover it behind pretend compassion and melancholy, it had seeped through, her words dripping resentment. In all the time he had been here, he had never seen anyone express such negativity. Maybe it was a slip-up on Sarah’s part, or maybe he hadn’t paid attention. Either way, he wanted to get out and have some space to think.

tag? tag: @probably-a-plant-thing @solmints-messyocdiary @visceravalentines @goldrose-star @rottent33th @immortal-velociraptor @myers-meadow @ace-of-hearts-and-spades

remember, remember, the fifth of November to tell me if you don't want to be tagged, I know all the AU and OC stuff isn't for everyone, not everyone cares about all OCs etc. I won't be offended, promise <3

#cylas writes #judah todd #blues ocs #i literally looked up biblical/christian town names #esther burr

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